


we're dreamers in castles made of sand

by xxcaribbean



Category: One Direction (Band), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe, Derogatory Language, M/M, Prostitution, Sexual Content, Slash, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 09:26:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2062803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxcaribbean/pseuds/xxcaribbean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>zayn hadn’t planned on adding <i>i fucked a prostitute</i> to his list of things he’d accomplished in life nor did he expect to get attached to one so easily either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're dreamers in castles made of sand

There's an age old question that still lingers about, but Liam thinks he has the answer. Do the old really eat the young or do the young eat the old?

Logically speaking, he can see it going both ways, and while these questions may have nothing to do with actually being something cannibalistic, in his line of work, he knows which question exactly works the best.

Liam may be young but his clients are usually the old, and they always go after the young because they're different and remind them of a time when they could have anyone in the world, when they were young and wild and could land any hot bird in town. It's a way for them to forget and a pastime to make them feel better about themselves because they're able to play dominant in a world that makes them submissive.

He's able to bring it out of them so very easily but also takes their cash in return with a wink and a smile because Liam's been doing this long enough to know that the old eat the young because they can and the young eat the old because they're smarter and more vigilant in their ways to play along as if they know nothing about the world around them.

But Liam knows the world around him, especially at the young age of seventeen. He's known the bitterness and the cold, what it's like to live on the street by having to fight just to stay alive. He's doing better now, more than he was three years ago, but it's a process and he works his magic as best as he can to make it long enough to see another horizon.

"You're late. Clean yourself up. Room thirty-nine is ready for you." She's an older woman, someone Liam knows who's been in this ring for years and the only reason she's sitting behind some shitty desk, smacking on bubble gum and shoving a cigarette in her mouth is because she's grown old and bitter by all the literal fucks she's had to give.

Liam only nods and heads into his dressing room that isn't really a room at all. It's more of a closet filled with sanitation items and the like, things for him to make himself pretty, dress up nice for the clients he'll go in to meet so that they'll like him and fuck him and he'll get paid.

He works here, occasionally, because it's good pay, and he's done the whole street thing. It's dangerous out there, and sometimes it's best to work in a place like this because he knows that the owner takes care of his workers and doesn't allow the clients to manhandle the prostitutes as if they were nothing more than people.

Liam grabs a pair of slacks and a white button up shirt. They'll most likely end up ruined tonight, which means he'll have to buy another pair. He's learned to dress nice during these events, to present himself as best as he can before the clothes are shed and he's spread out, dick hard and leaking while some overweight man fucks the very breath out of him.

It entices the customer, as Liam has learned, and he knows a lot. It's taken him awhile to learn his own trick of the trade and while there'd been plenty of other long-time workers that have tried to show him the ropes, the do's and the don't's, Liam's picked up on a few tricks himself, knowing how to get by and simultaneously please the client.

Once he’s dressed, Liam exits the small closet of a room and heads down the hallway, eyes grazing over each open and closed door for the right number. He can hear plenty of steady moans coming from within some of the rooms. The doors are almost always shut, but as he passes several that are open, he holds back a grimace because while it’s not his thing to get off in front of other people, some of the clients like it, can’t wait to look up and see someone leaning up against the doorframe, watching with increased intensity as they have themselves a good time.

Liam's seen it all before and nothing fazes him now, so he's able to pass by it all without so much as a raised eyebrow. He knows that these workers do what they do in order to get paid, and if that means leaving the door open or sucking their client off in front of a room full of people, they'll do it because they're desperate and probably have a lot of daddy issues.

He walks, holds his head up high and approaches one of the last rooms in the hallway. He knocks, very politely, until the door swings open and he's met with a man who looks like he's in his forties; most likely a man in the center of a mid-life crisis.

Liam smiles and says, "Hello."

From there he's ushered into the room, told to strip down to nothing so he can sit on his knees while this man shoves his cock down his throat, and while there's that voice in the back of Liam's mind that would love to tell him to shove off and go find someone else to have the night with, he doesn't because he does this for a reason. Liam's good; no, he's wonderful, and he's popular amongst the clientele and he knows exactly what he's doing when it comes to pleasing these obsessed, horny men.

"Enough," the man spits, shoving Liam back before he can fully bring him to orgasm.

Liam, by now, is fully hard, and it's a side-effect of all that he's done. It's his natural body, and he pushes the emotion of disgust back into his mind because there's no time for that, not when the client is forcing him up onto the bed, shoving two lubed up fingers in his arse before sliding on a condom and taking Liam without any warning.

He's a rough one, and Liam knows he'll have small bruises all across his back and his hips from the way that man continuously fucks him. He's pulling at Liam's hair, skin slapping against skin and the moans are filthy from both parties because as much as Liam hates and loves his job, there's nothing like taking a cock up the ass, feeling completely full and owned because he's young and he's weak.

There's only a few more thrusts before the client is cumming in Liam. He pulls out and collapses onto the bed and Liam stays in his own position, cock still hard, pressing up against his belly. He knows better than to touch himself just yet or leave in case something else may happen, and just when he thinks the older man has drifted off to sleep, he tries to move, only for his wrist to be encircled by a hand much bigger than his.

"Nah, you're staying the night."

It's the first time Liam's really heard him speak aside from the noises he'd made during sex. It's rough and a little unsure, but Liam doesn't care. He only raises an eyebrow and looks at the man beside him. "That'll cost extra."

The man grunts, "Yeah, well, you're a pretty little thing, and I'd say you're worth it."

So Liam settles down on the bed, cock still flushed red and waits until the client is rested enough for another round of sex.

Liam'll be lucky enough if he's allowed one orgasm tonight.

x.x.x.x

"And how do you know this place?" Zayn asks because he's certainly confused right now, especially when his friend is standing before him and telling him to go find a prostitute to fuck to figure out his sexuality.

Harry shrugs, "Well..."

"Oh my god, really?" Harry has half a mind to look sheepish but he still grins like an evil cat.

"Hey, it's not that bad, and if you find the right one they're not as tacky as some people think they are. Especially if you go to the high end places."

"The fact that you know all of this worries me."

"I don't do it anymore. Louis' great, and he's told me a lot about what he does. It's not that big of a deal unless you make it out to be." Harry looks at him with a challenge in his eye. "Besides, if you're too scared to shag anyone on campus, then go with hooker. They keep quiet and you won't ever see them again. Plus, there's the added bonus that if you find out that it's not your thing, no one will be none the wiser."

Zayn sighs. He can't believe he's even having this conversation in his living room. "There's also two problems with that: money and actually going through with this stupid idea."

"Look, I'm your friend, and if you're gay or bisexual or whatever label you want to be, you know I'm not going to judge you. It's not that big of a deal, Zayn, and I only brought it up because Louis suggested it and it sounds a lot more plausible to have sex with a stranger you'll never meet again then run into someone around here."

And it all makes sense; it really does, but a prostitute? There's a stigma with that, that they're all filthy and the fact that it's frowned upon for morality issues and Zayn knows the only real reason he has any kind of hesitation with this is because all of those preconceived notions that have been drilled into his brain from a young age.

But he's struggling with himself and who he is and maybe he just needs to get laid, is all. Though, as of late, any of the girls he brings home isn't doing it for him, and Zayn's gotta admit, the one time someone went down on him - who happened to be a boy who knew exactly what he was doing, though Zayn doesn't talk about that experience much or at all - it felt incredible and sexy.

His dick twitches at the thought of it, and he clears his throat.

"You promise Louis knows where to go?" Zayn asks, finally giving in to this absolutely ridiculous idea.

Harry smiles and nods. "Yeah, trust me. He's been around awhile, and I don't think he'd let you take someone off the street." He shudders at the thought. "No offense towards them, but I'd rather you not contract something just because you wanted to experiment."

Whether that's supposed to be reassuring, Zayn doesn't know, but the plan is set in motion, and he'll soon be able to add _I fucked a prostitute_ to his list of things he's accomplished in life.

x.x.x.x

"Wake up."

The blankets are yanked off of his body and Liam's forced to open his eyes and stare up at the owner of the place, Niall.

He's a kind man, sometimes, unless they piss him off enough, but mostly everyone tends to avoid that because of the old Irish temper. He doesn't abuse in the sense of slapping around his workers; he needs them in tip top shape, but there are those moments when he'll take someone's eye out with his language if he's not too happy with them.

Fortunately enough, Liam considers Niall a friend and someone he can rely on. He's usually picked on by some of the other workers because they claim he gives Niall sexual favors and that earns him a gold star in the eyes of the owner, but the truth is, Niall had picked him up off the street with a promise of a bed and good money as long as he brought in customers, which it was safe to say he did, simply because Liam had experience, he knew money, how to get his way and look absolutely filthy during his sexual escapades, so much so that it usually had men - sometimes women too - coming back for more.

"You better hope he left you something."

Liam groans and realizes he probably slept in long enough for the man he was with last night to leave without so much as paying. "Shit." He sits up and hisses when he does so because he's not only bruised all along the side of his body, but his ass hurts.

Niall snorts, "Rough night?"

"You could say that." Liam rubs at his eyes before climbing out of bed, completely aware of his nakedness but not caring that Niall's in the room. He's becoming accustomed to being in the nude, especially with his clients and that shyness he'd once had had completely faded from his being.

He grabs his clothes off the floor and only manages to slip the pants back on so that he's at least halfway decent when he walks back through the halls. He'll be going home for the day, though he's sure he'll receive a call later about another possible opportunity to make money.

When his pants are fastened up and he makes a move to exit the room, something brushes up against his leg so he sticks his hands into his pockets and pulls out a wad of cash. "Oh."

"You mean thank fuck he paid." Niall motions for him to hand over the money, and Liam does so, watches as Niall only pulls out a hundred before shoving the rest back into Liam's hand. "Keep the rest, and don't make a habit of this."

He's stern and he means it, and he's in boss mode, so that's fine. Liam understands, and he gets why Niall's being lenient with him right now. He normally doesn't make mistakes. Liam's usually the first out of the room, definitely before the customer, with cash in hand and a little worse for wear.

"Sorry," he admits, but Niall waves him off and exits the room but not without leaving him his own set of instructions.

"Go home, Liam. Take the night off and come back tomorrow fully refreshed."

Liam doesn't protest, just places the rest of the money into his pocket, slips on his shirt and exits the room. Tomorrow is Saturday, and while Friday is usually busy too, Liam's sure there isn't any way he'd be able to take another client unless it was for a blowjob and some fingering, though that's not usually what they want when they see Liam. They'd rather have him spread out on all fours, fingers shoved up his ass so they can hear him moan in pleasure only they know they can give.

Sometimes it's fake, but Liam doesn't tell them that.

When he walks through the dingy halls, there are still a few moans coming from the rooms. Mostly it sounds like sucking but Liam would rather not know as he heads towards the back of the place, where there's a door that leads to the side of the building so he's not caught leaving through the front doors looking as messy and unkempt as he does right now.

When he's outside, he finds a few of the other workers out there, all smoking on cigarettes and he’s offered one, though it's not out of kindness.

Liam takes it, lights it up and inhales the smoke. He doesn't do this often, only when he's not feeling himself and right now, he most certainly wishes he were different. It's not that he's got a feeling of regret located somewhere inside his body, but he's sticky from the night and he'd like to go home and change.

He leans up against the wall, the fag resting between two of his fingers, and although he could walk away, head home and finish the cancer stick, it's only polite and reassuring that he stands out here with the rest of them.

"Good night?" one of them asks. She's a pretty little thing, blonde hair, short dress and high heels, the common look for most sex workers.

"It was fine," he answers. He doesn't talk much about his clients like the other workers. They tend to bash whoever comes in, claiming they're too old or how they couldn't get it up right. Liam doesn't do this for several reasons, one being that this is his job and he'd rather not lose it because his mouth ran a little too fast for his liking and got back to the wrong people. He's seen some of them replaced - though not at this brothel - because they couldn't keep their mouth shut. It hadn't ended well, and he'd rather not end up like that, though he's sure Niall would stick up for him regardless.

Someone else snorts. "Liam always has a good night when he's around here. Everyone wants him." And it's not an insult, and it's not to pick on him either. They're just stating facts because it's true.

Liam thinks he should be flattered that he's popular amongst the group of people here, in fact he knows some of the men by their names now because of how often they come in asking for him, but it doesn't really do much for his self-esteem or lack-thereof. He's confident, yes, because people want him but it's also a lonely life filled with meaningless sex just to pay the bills.

So Liam only cracks a smile and shrugs and tells them to fuck off because he doesn't want to agree with them and yet he doesn't want to disagree either. He takes credit where credit is due, nothing more and nothing less and he's learned not to turn down a compliment right away just because he feels differently.

"I'm off now," he says, throwing the cig to the ground and rubbing his foot over it to make sure it's fully put out. They all give him brief nods and a smile or two before he takes off, hands shoved into his pockets where he feels the money wadded up. He hasn't had the chance to count it yet, and only knows that there's one less bill there, but he's paid a little more than most of the other workers simply because well, as they had said it themselves, Liam's popular; he attracts clients and if he's lucky, he's with at least three men a night if he's not booked to stay the night.

Liam doesn't have a car, so he walks home, and by no means does he live in the bad area of town, but sometimes it's not safe either. He's glad it's the middle of the day, not really sure what time it is, but it lifts his spirits a little more because he now has the chance to relax for the night until tomorrow's rush.

When Liam gets to his apartment, he immediately goes inside, locks up the front door and heads to his bedroom. In there, instead of heading directly to the shower, Liam gets on his knees and pulls out a coffee can out from underneath his bed. When he's peeled off the lid, he glances in at the can of cash until he takes out what's left in his pocket and stuffs it inside, not bothering to count any of it because he knows he was paid well, and because he can't be bothered to do so when he's feeling as grimy as he does.

With the coffee can back in place, Liam strips and heads directly for the bath, filling the tub up with water and soaking in it until he's pruney and warm. He takes his time, cleaning himself, scrubbing away the nonexistent physical pieces of last night on his skin and watches it as it swirls down the drain until he's got to do this all over again, just on a different night.

When he has on a fresh pair of clothes, he doesn't bother with dinner and heads straight to bed, climbing in and closing his eyes until he's able to drift off to sleep.

x.x.x.x

Zayn's having second thoughts about doing this. He's currently standing in front of what looks like an ordinary building, but he knows what lies inside. And it's not that it should be scary either; he's had sex before, plenty of times but this is different and could mark a huge change in his life. Sure, he'll still be attracted to girls, but this would most definitely be a sure-fire way to find out if he's really interested in the same sex.

Harry's with him, nudging at his side and nodding towards the front of the door to enter. As much as he'd said he'd like to come alone, Harry insisted on meeting up with Louis anyway, that he'd make sure Zayn was taken care of and all would be well.

"You know what, I don't think I can afford this. Why don't I just head back-"

"Shut the fuck up. I know how much your piece of art sold for. You've got enough to cover your ass for the next week if you wanted."

And that was most definitely true. See, although Zayn's in Uni and going to school and all that jazz for English, he paints and does art on the side and so far, it's taken off really well. He's by no means the next Van Gogh, but he's fortunate enough to have a few people interested in his pieces, enough to sell to make it by in school and with his apartment. It's not much, but his name is growing ever since he'd sold a piece to a socialite who'd come into the art gallery one of his pieces was in.

"Harry, this is different, and I dunno how comfortable I am with this."

"Would you rather me take you to a gay bar?" Zayn pales, and shakes his head rapidly, and look, it's not like he has anything against people who hang around those clubs, but he knows some of the other people Harry hangs out with, how they're a little too much in personality for his liking and he's not ready for all of that at once.

This will definitely suffice.

"Fine," he says, taking a deep breath before entering the building.

There's a different vibe here. It looks loose and free, very open and there are a handful of men and women that linger about the front of the lobby. Some of them most definitely catch Zayn's interest and while anyone would look like a kid in a candy story, Zayn's palms sweat and he's most definitely nervous.

"C'mon, there's Louis." Harry tugs on Zayn's hand and leads them over to where Louis is standing. He greets them both, a peck on the cheek for Zayn and a bit of an obscene kiss on the lips for Harry.

"Decided to go through with it then?" He directs his attention towards Zayn, who only shrugs in response.

"Guess so." He thinks he should be concerned that this many people know he's having a sexuality crisis, that they're all willing to help him get laid, but Zayn's more worried about who he'll be with and if he'll end up being laughed at rather than encouraged.

Louis winks, "Niall's got someone for you already, says he's really good, and he'll do all the work. Name's Liam."

"Do you know him?" Zayn asks; it'd probably make him feel better if Louis said yes.

"I've met him a few times in passing. Good lad, but not my type."

Harry leans over and connects their lips again, and Zayn knows that he'll be left alone here very soon.

Louis pulls back first, a grin on his face and sticks out his arm in Zayn's direction. He's holding a keycard, but he's not looking at Zayn, only Harry. "Take it."

Zayn feels like the third wheel already.

He takes the keycard, reads the number on it while Louis tells him which hallway to go down before he wishes him good luck, dragging Harry out of the building to do only god knows what.

Zayn's left in the middle of the lobby, various people around him, feeling so very out of place until he remembers the keycard to which he wastes no time in walking down the right corridor and finding the room he'll be in for the night.

x.x.x.x

Liam pulls down his shirt in order get rid of any wrinkles in the fabric. He's put on a small amount of cologne, curled his hair and made sure he looks absolutely presentable for his client tonight. He doesn't know much about him, only from what Niall's told him.

Apparently he's an extended friend and while Niall doesn't know him personally, he still needs to do his absolute best not only for the customer but for their business. It's always good to make the brothel look good, and Liam will be the one to represent.

Really, it's just a way to get this particular client back for another go around, but even then, Liam feels better when he's dressed up and ready to go.

He exits the room, shoves past several of the other workers lingering about. Some of them already have a little arm candy while others meander about, waiting for more people to show up. They will though; they always do but it's also a little early and why it's more crowded than usual.

Liam easily finds the room he's been assigned and wonders what kind of man is on the other side. Most of the time, he's familiar with his clients; he knows what they like and what they don't and he's able to provide them exactly what they want, but when he's given someone new to please, it's always an experiment because Liam has to quickly take in his surroundings, take in the man that wants to ravish him and figure out his main points of interest so that Liam will impress him quickly enough so he'll eventually come crawling back for more.

He knocks, knuckles lightly tapping against the wood of the door, and maybe it's too light and whoever is inside hadn't heard, but then the door’s swinging open and Liam meets the gaze of a much younger gentleman, one with darker skin, jet-black hair and hazel eyes.

If Liam didn't know any better, he'd say this man was about his age, and while he'd like to scrunch up his nose and wonder why his newest client is here when he could very easily have sex with anyone he wanted without paying, he only gives a soft smile and asks if he can enter.

"Uh, sorry," the other male says, stepping back and allowing Liam to enter the room.

The place is extravagant, clean-cut and modern so that it doesn't look out of date, but doesn't feel like a home either.

Liam doesn't go to the bed, nor does he sit down on one of the empty chairs pressed up against the wall. He turns on his heel and watches as his client closes the door to face him. During this time, he studies the man further, taking in his appearance and trying to read him as best as he can.

He's dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a gray t-shirt and that's it, and Liam wonders if he can even afford a place like this but he doesn't question it because they wouldn't have allowed him in here if he didn’t have the money.

Liam finds that he can’t really read the other male. He looks far too distressed about his current predicament as he moves about the room, fidgeting and running his hands down the side of his pants in order to rid them of sweat.

Liam raises an eyebrow, "Normally it's easy for me to know what a client wants, even if it's my first time with them."

It causes the other man to jump slightly at the sound of his voice, and it only has Liam wondering if he's got one of those really, really kinky bastards on his hands. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been forced to do something rather extreme, but he can’t seem to pinpoint the necessary details he needs to know in order to please, and it's starting to worry him.

"Sorry, I'm just a little nervous."

So Liam nods slowly because he understands. It's sex with a stranger. Well, paying to have sex with a stranger; there's a large difference there, but still, it can be a little awkward and they have the whole night anyway.

"Alright, well, if it'll help, you can tell me a little about yourself?" Liam doesn't really wanna know, but he figures it's a bit of comfort, and he'll do anything he needs in order to see the cash.

"Zayn; my name's Zayn."

"Well, that'll be good to know when you've got me screaming later."

The statement startles Zayn, again. He looks a little wide-eyed and this time around he takes in Liam, his frame and exactly how young he looks.

"How old are you?"

"Old enough."

Which doesn't answer Zayn's question because the prostitute looks too young to be doing something like this, and he'd rather not sleep with someone underage.

"Legal, at least?"

Liam snorts. "Trust me, I wouldn't be allowed in this place if I wasn't, though I suppose it doesn't matter in my line of work, does it?" He shrugs, but he'd rather get this show on the road. "Now, like I suggested before, you're going to have to tell me what you want. You're hard to read."

Zayn swallows the lump in his throat and bites at his lip before answering. "Is there anything you can't do?"

And by asking that question, it all makes sense for Liam. A light bulb has been turned on and woke him up to the reality of this situation. "This is your first time with a hooker, isn't it?"

Zayn looks sheepish and doesn't answer, but Liam understands that this is not the only issue.

"This is your first time with another guy too?" He doesn't laugh and he doesn't provoke Zayn anymore than he already has because if this truly is Zayn's first, then he's in for a very different outlook on life when he leaves.

"I get it, okay? You don't have to explain yourself to me. The only reason I'm here is to do as you want, and if you don't know, that's fine. I'll lead."

So Liam steps forward, towards Zayn and pulls at his hand, pressing their bodies against one another and Liam leans forward, hesitantly at first until their lips meet.

He waits, gives it a second or two in order to let Zayn take it further. He'd rather not force the other lad too soon in case he decides to back out, but his actions seem to be exactly what Zayn needed to lean in and deepen the kiss.

Liam is a mixture of tastes, but it's mostly just sweetness. It only further reminds Zayn that Liam's young, and while he'd like to ask more questions, being the curious person he is, he figures now isn't the time considering he's half hard just from a kiss and he's really going to get lucky tonight, even if it scares him to death.

When Liam pulls back, he grins. "Not too bad." His hands travel down Zayn's body, feeling his frame and aiming for one particular thing to get it all started.

He cups Zayn with his palm, massaging him through his pants and while Zayn is stunned at first, he only stares at Liam as he fondles him.

"Can't wait to have you in me," he whispers, leaning in for Zayn's lips again.

Zayn grows steadily harder with Liam touching him, and he figures he can do this. He can get off just standing here with Liam palming at him without taking this any further, but then his trousers are being unzip and pulled down before he knows it and then Liam's on his knees, tasting Zayn's dick with the tip of his tongue.

Zayn's eyes widen. He's got nothing to support his upper body with, so he settles for resting a hand on the back of Liam's head. It's not encouraging in any means, but it sits there and Liam takes it as such.

The tip of his tongue pokes out of his already swollen mouth. It's red from kissing Zayn, and he gives a tentative lick across the slit of the dick before he suckles the rest into his mouth. Zayn only stares, a whine in the back of his throat because it feels good so far, and if Liam plans on taking him further, he's not sure how he'll last the night.

Liam's big brown eyes blink back at Zayn as he opens his mouth a little wider, inching forward ever so slightly until he's got a good amount of Zayn in his mouth. A hand travels up to the base of Zayn's length working it in time with his bobbing until Zayn's left moaning at the feeling of wet heat encircling him.

Occasionally he gives an involuntary buck, causing Liam to choke, but the younger lad keeps doing, working Zayn and fondling his balls.

"So close," he mentions though his voice doesn't sound like his own. Zayn's hardly done anything at all, but he feels like he's on fire, and just as he feels like he's about to go over the edge, Liam lets up on him, abruptly stops what he's doing to pull off of Zayn with a wet pop.

Zayn breathes in and watches Liam move. He doesn't complain that he hadn't been finished off because then Liam's stripping out of his clothes, and all Zayn can do is watch. There's still the lingering thought in his mind that he'd been so very averse in the beginning, but it's very clear that he wants this so much now.

Liam sheds his clothes rather quickly. Most of the time there's more foreplay but he figures that Zayn really does need him to guide this experience through and if that means he'll give him a little show to entice him and loosen up his nerves then by all means that's exactly what he'll do.

So he leaves Zayn standing up, dick hard and hanging out of his pants, still completely dressed while he climbs up on the bed. He lies down, and he can't see his client unless he lifts his head up to purposely glance at him, but right now Liam just wants Zayn's eyes on him and he can practically feel the burn from them either way.

"C'mere Zayn and watch." He reaches out a hand and motions Zayn to come closer and within a few seconds, Zayn is at the edge of the bed, watching as Liam parts his legs and bends them at the knee, towards his chest.

Zayn's got a perfect view of him, Liam's dick and his entrance, and he feels entranced because Liam's pretty much smooth, and he really, really wouldn't mind if he could just touch, just feel how warm and welcoming Liam is.

Liam clears his throat and directs Zayn's attention up to his eyes, watches as Liam sticks two fingers in his mouth to suck on them, coating the with spit and using his tongue to suggest something filthy. He takes his time with this until he feels they're good and covered before he trails them down to his puckered hole, running his fingers over it until he slips one in.

Zayn's more than a little mesmerized by now. His pupils are blown wide, his dick twitches at the sight of Liam's finger disappearing within himself and it's too much for Zayn because regardless of this exposure that's meant to help him determine whether he swings for both teams and not just one, it doesn't matter because this is hot, and Zayn is more than a little horny; Liam is legal, and he's cute and although by the end of this, Zayn will have to pay for the experience of it all, it doesn't make it any less important.

By the time he gets his thoughts in check, Liam's too busy fucking himself on three fingers.

"H-how long-"

"Now," is all Liam says in response, because he's ready now and he can see the want in Zayn's eyes.

He motions towards the nightstand, and Zayn spots a few condoms and lube waiting for him. He hurriedly stands up, strips himself of his clothing too before ripping the condom package so he can slide it on his dick before lathering it up with the slick product.

By then, Liam's pulled out of himself, legs still spread as wide as he can get them to go, while looking at Zayn and smirking.

"Well, come on then."

Zayn moves closer, climbing up on the bed and resting himself over Liam. His cock brushes Liam's entrance, but he doesn't push in yet because suddenly, all of this dawns on him. Zayn's about to have sex with a guy, nevermind the fact that it's with a prostitute, someone he's paying to do this with, but as he stares down at Liam, who's busy biting his lip, pieces of his curly hair, unruly and a bit wild, he realizes that Liam's young and just a teen.

A teen with a cock and an arse that Zayn knows he won't be able to resist.

"Still nervous?" Liam whispers, but Zayn shakes his head despite the fact that he is.

"Do I just..." he starts, but stops because a light flush has taken over his cheeks at being inexperienced, but Liam pays it no mind, just nods his head and tells him to push in, that he can take it.

So he does; Zayn positions himself at Liam's entrance, watches as the tip of his cock widens that little pink hole until it's swallowing his length.

Zayn groans, not only from the tightness he feels around his length, but he watches as Liam's body takes every inch of him, just as it'd taken Liam's own fingers.

He keeps going until he's fully nestled inside of Liam, all the way down to the hilt, balls pressed up against Liam's arse too, and it takes all Zayn has in him not to fuck into that heat. He even has to close his eyes and concentrate on not cumming too soon because it's too much at one time.

Liam gives him that though, he stays pliant under Zayn, only move his hands so that he's touching Zayn's skin. He waits for him to catch his breath, to take in exactly what he's experiencing because Liam knows, remembers all too well what it was like to have a dick shoved so far up his ass for the first time, where he couldn't sit straight for two days after it was over, and while the sensation and the feeling might've been different than what Zayn is doing now, it's still an overwhelming actuality, and all Liam can do is grin because as much as he's done this before, there's nothing like taking that innocence away from someone else.

"You ready?" Liam asks, ghosting his fingertips over Zayn's shoulder and down his arm.

Zayn only answers by opening his eyes, pulling his hips back until only the tip of himself is within Liam and pushing right back in, all too aware of the slap of skin it makes and how Liam's hole accepts him so easily.

Zayn gives a flick of a smile before doing it again, getting used to the sensation, and he realizes that there's absolutely nothing wrong with this. It's different than being with a girl, but it's the same in many ways too.

He builds up his rhythm, watching Liam as he takes all that Zayn has to give. Liam may be more experienced in this, but he lays back and takes the pounding, watches as sweat builds up on Zayn's brow as he fucks into him.

Liam doesn't touch his cock either. He continues to play with Zayn's skin, running his fingers over what muscles Zayn has, down his chest and down to his ass, cupping it and forcing Zayn back into him with one hard thrust.

"Fuck, you feel so good."

And Liam smirks, keeping his hands positioned on Zayn's arse, while leaning up and capturing his lips, biting at his lower lip and sucking it into his mouth.

Zayn's close to cumming, so very close to the point where he cries out Liam's name and spills directly into the condom as Liam squeezes his inner muscles to create a little bit more tautness for Zayn to feel. He rides through his orgasm, hips pumping in Liam's, lips still on lips and by the time he's worked through it, his dick softening, he's completely sensitive when he pulls out. He takes his time removing the condom, tying it up and chucking it into the bin near the nightstand, and when he's done with this, he finds that Liam's still lying pliant on the bed staring back at him, dick hard and pressed up against his body.

Zayn feels a light amount of guilt creep up into his guts because how is it fair that he gets to cum but Liam doesn't? And maybe he shouldn't feel so selfish considering he's paying for this and all, but Liam only waits, like he's wanting Zayn to take charge and tell him what he needs to do before he decides to take matters into his own hands.

Zayn knows he's not ready to suck another cock, not yet. And although now he can officially say he's had sex with another male, it's different than tasting another dick, leaking pre-cum and giving someone else pleasure in that regard.

So instead he opts for a handjob, watching Liam as Zayn takes his hand and closes it around Liam's member. It'd be unfair of him to say that he's not surprised that it feels like his own, but it does and with the knowledge of what he likes whenever he gives himself quickies in the shower, Zayn decides to do the same, fisting Liam's cock, working it with his hand while he continues to watch Liam.

Liam's surprised at first, when he feels the warmth around his prick. Normally the only way he's able to relieve his hardon would've been through giving himself a handjob unless the client made a point to actually have Liam cum too. A majority of the time, Liam had to suffer simply because it’s always the client's needs first before his own, and he if he had to leave the room with a raging boner, then he'd do that to keep the right people happy.

It’s about money. It’s about pleasing and doing what he knows he does best.

But right now, it feels good to be taken care of. Sure, he'd just been fucked, but this is different. This is deliberate and something Zayn doesn't have to do, so Liam doesn't protest, doesn't say a word because if he does, he might not be able to feel that relief until he takes care of it himself, and it's nice having someone other than himself take care of him for once, even if that's only a silent presumption.

Liam bites at the inside of his cheek, hips thrusting up into Zayn's hand and he doesn't move his gaze, doesn't bother closing his eyes and enjoying his rapidly growing climax because this isn't so much about him, as it is for Zayn. He's technically supposed to be proving a point, that sex is only sex, no matter the gender, and if Zayn happened to like fucking a member of the same sex until he saw stars, then that was A-okay.

Zayn flicks his wrist, twisted it and curling his fingers around the member before moving his thumb over Liam's slit, playing with the pre-cum that has gathered and dripped down. There's only a small tell-tale sign that the other boy's about to come, but Zayn's ready for it, jerks his hand a little faster until Liam's spilling over, covering both himself and Zayn's skin with cum.

Liam lays there in silence and Zayn only wipes his hand on the comforter, not caring about the stains it'll probably end up making. He climbs back up on the bed to lie on his side, facing Liam who's still resting on his back, staring up at the ceiling, clearly spent after having sex.

"You didn't have to do that," Liam says, breaking the silence. His voice is soft and it's not something he'd admit to any clients, but there's a bit of a weakness within him just after he comes, a flash of vulnerability he rarely shows to anyone, one he saves for the bathroom mirror when he's cleaning himself up, but Zayn's his mirror instead, the wall that's willing to listen to his thoughts.

"What do you mean?" Zayn returns with just as light of a voice. He's coming down his post-coital high still and while he's fully accepted the reality of this situation, it still doesn't fail to keep him awake with the thought that he's just gotten off with a guy.

But as soon as Zayn speaks, that tenderness is gone from Liam and he hardens up, masks his face and shakes it off. "Nothing, doesn't matter." He also mumbles a _be right back_ before he's off the bed and in the bathroom, leaving Zayn to himself and wondering if he'd been the one to do something wrong.

He's curious, wants to know if the other lad is okay. He'd like to say this isn't really a normal experience for Liam, but he doesn't know the other boy, and hasn't got a clue as to how this whole process works, so he lets him escape into the bathroom and leaves him be until Liam opens the door ten minutes later and heads straight for the bed, nestling himself on top of Zayn.

It's a bit unexpected, and definitely in the area of demanding and while Zayn had enjoyed this little escapade the first time around, he's slightly spent (which he's keeping to himself simply because he's only twenty and his libido should be much more frivolous than that) and he wouldn't mind actually having a conversation or two before getting back to business.

"Liam," Zayn says, lifting both of arms up, one to rest across Liam's thigh, hand cupping the smooth flesh of his lower hip while the other one travels to Liam's face, running the side of his finger down his cheek before sweeping his mass of curly hair that has come loose out of his eyes.

Liam tilts his head to the side. "Do you want me to ride you?"

Zayn bites his lip because oh god, he can do that. He can have this beautiful male ride his cock, get to see Liam really do all of the work, and the more he thinks about that, his dick grows a tad bit harder but instead of letting those images consume him whole just yet, he shakes his head.

"Not yet."

Liam narrows his eyes and wiggles on top of Zayn which only makes him hiss at the feeling of his cock rubbing up against Liam’s inner thigh.

"Hey," Zayn says, tugging on one of Liam's curls. "Let's just talk for a second, yeah?"

And Liam gives a bark of laughter. It's quite startling at first, the unexpected sound coming out of his mouth and Zayn's cheeks grow to a pinkish hue because of course this would be the one thing he's laughed at for, not for possibly being horrible at sex or the fact that he had to question Liam when they were both hard.

No, it all comes down to the fact that Zayn would rather get to know the teen resting on top of his lower body, who's so willing to give Zayn much more than he possibly deserves via sexual favors, and while it's a very enticing though to fuck it, flip Liam over and take him once again, Zayn can't do that, especially if he's paying for the night, and he's going to be in this room with a stranger.

"I won't ask anything too personal then."

Liam's calm by now, having settled into the humor of the situation which only leaves a gentle smile on his face. "Fair enough, though even then, don't expect me to answer."

Zayn nods and he sits up, which causes Liam to have to adjust himself; he continues sitting in the same position he'd been in, straddling Zayn.

They're close to one another, enough so that Zayn can finally see the little vein lines in Liam's skin, the way his eyes are brown and a little puffy. His lashes, although not as long as Zayn's, are brown and flutter every time he blinks. His nose is slightly larger than what's considered normal in Hollywood, but it's endearing and sits upon Liam's round face quite nicely.

His lips are pink and thicker than Zayn's own, and he has a brief flashback of just moments ago, when they'd been tight around his cock, wide and welcoming. It only causes Zayn to involuntarily lick his lips but he moves on to the last little noticeable difference that Liam's got, the birthmark. It's brown and shaped like a non-existent continent on his skin, enveloped by a sea of white. Zayn trails his finger down to it, pressing them against the mark, and while it feels just like normal skin because that's exactly what it is, only a few shades darker, it's mesmerizing and a little added feature that makes Liam who he is.

And Zayn doesn't know who this teen is because it's the first time he's met such an interesting person before, especially at a young age and being in this line of business. It's not like it's unheard of, but Zayn figures if Liam put his mind to it, he could go places. He's got the looks, most certainly the charm to attract attention and have all eyes on him; Zayn's boner was, and still is, proof of that but it still makes him question everything.

Maybe he's too emotionally invested in this already. See, this was supposed to be an experiment for himself, pay the hooker to have sex and leave the room without another thought in the world about it but a few wet dreams and memories to help him get by, but Liam, as he knows all too well, has a fire within him, burning so deep that it touches Zayn and makes him feel alive, and it's something quite palpable as he sits here, just the two of them, doing nothing but watching one another without any kind of sexual advances in tow.

"Do you enjoy this?" Zayn asks the first question.

"It's sex," Liam states bluntly, as if that's supposed to be a good enough answer, but it isn't. Anyone can have sex but that doesn't mean they'd enjoy it.

"That's not an answer."

"It is; it's just not the one you're looking for."

Zayn hums, "Okay, do you like fucking strangers for a living?" He's placed his hands on the back of Liam's arse, holding him in place on his lap, kneading and massaging the flesh there to make a point.

"Pays the bills."

Zayn purses his lips because who is he kidding, of course Liam wouldn't be completely honest with him, but he figures if anything, he can take it back to earlier, when Liam had questioned what he'd done for him as if he'd just given him an unexpected gift.

"Alright, one more question," Zayn begins by giving Liam one more look before leaning in and pressing his lips against his neck. Liam gasps at the unexpected contact, at the way Zayn's tongue flicks out every once in awhile until he trails up close to his ear. "How do you like to have sex, Liam?"

Liam's startled at first, brought out of the lingering haze of a one track mind. "W-what?"

"You heard me, and I take it that it's been a long time since someone's gotten you off the way you wanted. You looked rather surprised when I made you cum, even left the room when I asked you about it."

"I'm sorry, that wasn't very prof-"

But his words are cut off by Zayn's mouth on his, silencing the younger boy by pulling his head closer so that he can deepen the kiss.

"But you liked it."

"This is supposed to be about you."

"It doesn't have to be," Zayn argues back, and Liam tilts his head slightly.

"Yes, you're paying for what you want, so you call the shots. I know this is your first time and all, but I figured you understood the concept of a hooker."

Zayn narrows his eyes, not really sure if it's meant to be an insult, though he shrugs it off. "Still, it doesn't mean that the both of us can't have a little fun either. What's the point of me getting my way when you're not willing?"

"It's my j-"

"Job, yes, I've heard that before, but that's not what I'm asking, and since this is my night, _Liam_ , I'm asking you what you want. I came here for one purpose alone, and I think you've already helped me prove that."

So Liam stays quiet and thinks of an answer to the original question that had been asked without any kind of protest in return. He knows it'll be useless and wasted words, and if Zayn was really offering to get him off, then he shouldn't turn it down, especially since he most likely won't have another client like this in a while.

"Just.... just let me ride you."

And Zayn doesn't object because if this is what Liam wants, then it's what he'll get.

The younger boy reaches over to the nightstand for a condom and the bottle of lube while Zayn keeps his grip on his body so he won't fall.

Liam's the one to do all the work, sliding the condom on Zayn and slicking it up with lube before he moves himself into position to where he can lower his body down on Zayn. It's a completely different angle than before, and when he slides down on Zayn's shaft, the older boy realizes exactly why Liam had wanted this position in the first place. Liam's face goes neutral for a moment before it slips into one that Zayn knows all too well; it's a lighter version of his _o_ face, but it's still there regardless.

Zayn can't take his eyes off of Liam, the way he moves down until he's got all of Zayn's cock in him, to the way he's busy biting the inside of his cheek in order to keep his moans to himself.

When he's fully seated, it's only then does he crack his eyes open to look at Zayn who's got a serious look on his face, one that can't wait to devour its prey.

"You wanted this, you make it happen," Zayn demands, and Liam moves, pulls himself up before sliding back down on Zayn's dick until he's able to completely get used to the feeling enough to lightly bounce.

Zayn enjoys the feeling, of course he does, but he takes it a step further and leans forward, connecting his lips to Liam's neck, kissing the birthmark that he's become fascinated with while licking the skin around it.

He reaches a hand down in-between their bodies, taking Liam's length in his hand again which only causes the other lad to miss a beat in his rhythm before he finds it again and goes along with Zayn's flick of the wrist.

It only takes a few more little nips to Liam's skin and several more tugs on his cock before he's cumming again, splattering both his stomach and Zayn's with white all the while his inner muscles contract and cause Zayn to cry out at his own release.

They sit there like that for a good minute or so, relishing in the afterglow and the fact that Liam's slightly out of breath. He's also the first to pull away from Zayn, slightly more timid than he'd been towards the beginning of the night, but he doesn't leave for the bathroom again. Liam just pulls himself to the side, lying back on the bed despite the stickiness on his stomach.

Zayn doesn't mind it either but instead of lying down with him, he gets off the bed, grabs his pants and pulls out his pack of cigarettes and a lighter, lighting one up until he sees Liam motioning for it as well. He raises any eyebrow, but doesn't say a word, just hands over the stick and pays attention to how Liam pulls it up to his lips and breathes in deep.

"So, I know your name, that you’re a hooker and you smoke. Anything else important?"

"I'm gay."

Zayn snorts. "That's a given."

"I feel like I should leave now," Liam admits.

"You'll end up with less cash if you do that."

Liam ponders the statement and shrugs. "This has been a lot more personal than I'm comfortable with."

Zayn's back on the bed at this point, lying on his side. He holds a hand out, waiting for Liam to finish sucking down the smoke of the fag before he's giving it back so Zayn can take a drag himself.

"I don't think we're supposed to be smoking in here anyway," Liam says nonchalantly and he honestly can't fathom why he's talking this much or even allowing something like this to happen. It's possible that it's because Zayn's taken a rather unhealthy interest in his actions and who he is, which isn't as uncommon as he's lead Zayn to believe, but mostly the sex is distracting enough to cut anyone off from wanting to find out the truth.

And a lot of them want the truth out of Liam simply because they see his age and wonder how in the hell he'd ended up here, but then by the time Liam's got a mouth around their dick, their wandering thoughts are completely gone.

Zayn though, he's pushy, Liam can see, and they still have the rest of the night to go.

Zayn's got a smirk on his face. "Right, the questions are too personal for you but getting naked and having an orgasm isn't?"

A smile breaks out on Liam's face. "Sex is sex. Everyone does it though when you start asking a hooker questions about his past, it's personal in the sense that someone else's story isn't the same as mine, and if you don't mind, I'd like to keep this strictly business."

So Zayn does so, doesn't bother questioning Liam any more than he already has and waits until Liam's the first to fall asleep before he does so himself.

They end up waking up later in the night for another round of sex.

x.x.x.x

"You motherfucker."

Zayn shits up straight in his chair and blinks rapidly, realizing he's just fallen asleep in one of his classes and everyone is packing up to go.

"Shit."

There's a cackle of laughter.

"Harry," Zayn groans and the other lad pokes him in the cheek.

"Wake up, wake up," he sing-songs.

"You've got notes, yeah?" he asks, standing up from his seat and grabbing his backpack full of books, still a little incoherent.

"You can copy them when we get to the shop," Harry replies. He waits for Zayn to grab his stuff before they head down to the local bookshop where most of the Uni students tend to hang. Not only does it have a little coffee bar in it, but it also acts as a library for those writing papers. It's a quaint little place and although it tends to be slightly crowded, Harry knows all the little nooks and crannies given the fact that Louis works there too.

Zayn had been completely confused the first time Harry had told him about Louis and his double life. Bookkeeper by day, prostitute by night, and while at the time he'd only nodded and pretended he was happy for Harry, he'd had his concerns in the beginning until he'd actually met Louis for the first time and since then, he's warmed up to him.

They're by no means great friends, not like him and Harry are, but when they do meet up together, they've got the world at their feet whenever they talk and Harry tends to get a little jealous whenever they don't include him in their chats.

When they arrive at the shop, Louis' busy working which only makes Harry pout until they manage to grab an empty table far enough away from the rather large group of people within the shop. There are a lot of students that line the aisle of shelves, reading books and jotting down words and it gives off a very nice homey feel to the place.

Zayn makes a grabby motion with his hands and Harry reluctantly hands over his notebook, the one for their English class.

"I don't know why you need them. You're going to get an A."

"Better safe than sorry."

Harry rolls his eyes, "Yeah alright."

They sit in silence for a good five minutes, Zayn copying down what he can read of Harry's chicken scratch while Harry busies himself on his phone, though they're startled when Louis comes around with two cups of coffee and a kiss for Harry.

"Sorry, it's a bit of a rush today."

"That's okay," Harry politely answers back, taking a sip of his beverage. Zayn doesn't pay attention though, just accepts the drink and goes back to writing notes until Louis addresses him specifically.

"So, how'd the other night go?"

And Zayn freezes, hand tightening around his pen, already feeling two sets of eyes on him. Harry hadn't asked Zayn about anything; in fact, he'd been quite distant about it which Zayn was grateful for, but Louis on the other hand, since he'd been the one to direct Zayn and help him out, of course he'd be the first one to want to know all the details.

Zayn clears his throat. "Uh, fine." He sets his pen down and leans back in his chair before warily looking up at the two males that have got a grin on their face. "What?"

Harry kicks him from under the table, which causes him to let out a yelp.

"You prat."

"Details."

"No." And he's stubborn until Louis raises his eyebrows and blinks, looking innocent and pixie-like and Zayn loses his courage to keep it all to himself.

"I don't really like labels, but being with a guy ain't all that bad."

Harry responds by bouncing in his seat and slapping the table with his hands. "Really?"

"Harry, it's not that big of a deal-"

"Yes it is, Zayn. You've finally come to terms with yourself and now you've got a lot of people to choose from now."

"Oi, just because I slept with someone doesn't mean I'm going to go out and do it all the time now."

"Right, as if you didn't do that with all those pretty girls you've brought home."

Zayn can't argue with him there. He might've been a bit of a slut, but a majority of the time he was drunk and they were there and wanted it too, so why not?

Zayn sighs and turns back to the notes he'd been copying.

"Well okay then, but at least now you'll be able to come out clubs without freaking out."

And maybe that's one of the better perks of Zayn discovering himself.

Shit, he really sounds like some kind of overly flowery, self-realization hippie dude, and he doesn't like it. Not one bit, and sure, it's fine for some people but Zayn knows he's just Zayn and this isn't that big of a deal.

And it’s not like he’s scared of being anything other than straight either, of course not, but he’s only known women for so long although having an openly gay roommate has changed a lot of his views on things, help made him see things different and open his mind to stuff Zayn’s sure he never wouldn’t thought about otherwise.

Zayn turns back to his work, finishing it all the while leaving Harry and Louis to their own devices.

x.x.x.x

Zayn doesn't really think about his night on the town aka the date with the hooker named Liam as much as he'd thought he would. After the aftermath, he'd woken in an empty room, wallet much lighter than it'd been when he left and a sense of awareness about his body and how much relief he felt with all the tension gone.

He'd thought about Liam that entire day, but eventually he'd had to cast it aside when he'd gotten home to take a shower and found Harry in the kitchen, trying his best to cook without burning down the place.

After that, life went on, until today, that is, because as Zayn's walking about town by himself, which is really just a chance for him to get away from both Harry and Louis who are currently in the apartment fucking, he thinks he spots Liam.

It's a brief little thought that crosses his mind at first, because the lad seems rather familiar, and Zayn can't place the face until it dawns on him, but once it enters his mind, Zayn can't draw his attention away.

He can only see the guy's side profile, and it's nearing dark enough as it is so everything is harder to see in the dimming light. There's only brown hair, white skin and the cast of shadows. If it's Liam, he's also by himself with a bag full of items, walking down the street and Zayn has half a mind to call out to him, though he thinks he probably shouldn't.

So he doesn't. He continues walking, watching and waits until Liam, or the one he thinks might be Liam, disappears from sight, until he's just an afterthought in Zayn's mind again for another day.

x.x.x.x

"Zayn," Harry calls, but there's no response. "Zayn. Zayn. _Zayn_."

"Goddamnit Harry, you're supposed to be getting some rest," Zayn growls out, frustrated with the younger lad and the fact that he's been whiney ever since he'd gotten sick two days ago with a random stomach bug. Zayn's tried his best to avoid him as much as he could in fear of catching the sickness and so far he's been lucky.

"I'm hungry."

Zayn stands in the doorway of Harry's room. He's currently curled up in a mass of blankets, all rolled up and warm with only his head peeking out so he can talk to Zayn.

"Uh no. You are not having a full meal like you did last time. We both know what happened, and I had to clean it up." Zayn shakes his head rapidly because there's no way Harry's eating like he thought he could.

"I'll get you some crackers or something."

"No," Harry rebuttals, "Soup."

Zayn sighs, "I don't think we have any left."

And Harry sticks out his bottom lip. "Please?"

Zayn's face drops, staring at Harry like he can't believe he's asking this right now. "Fine," he relents and he backs away from the door in order to make an impromptu trip to the local little half-assed convenience store that sits just a block away from their apartment.

He grabs what he needs, a jacket, shoes, money and his keys before he's yelling that he'll be back before exiting the apartment and locking it, not waiting for Harry's response.

It's freezing outside, so Zayn ends up wrapping his jacket around him that much tighter and cursing Harry under his breath for making him do this. Harry just had to get sick and they just had to run out of soup, but as he approaches the store, relief floods his veins simply because as soon as he walks inside, he's met with warmer air. There's still a slight chill, but it’s much better than outside.

The first thing Zayn does is head over to the section of soups. There's cans of about everything imaginable and Zayn hesitates to even pick one, not really sure what Harry will eat, though he figures whatever he gets him, he'll eat anyway given the fact that he'd made Zayn walk out here in the first place.

Zayn goes for the inevitable, easiest choice: chicken noodle soup. It's easy to make and typically something everyone eats whenever they’re sick. He grabs two cans before parting for the aisle and tries his best to think of anything else they need in case Harry might ask him to make another run to the store for him.

He knows he'll definitely buy another pack of cigarettes but nothing else catches his attention until he begins to make his way to the register. Zayn looks down the rows, occasionally seeing random amounts of people shopping, baskets full of produce until one person manages to really stands out, and Zayn’s all too sure of who it is.

He's got clear view of his face or at least what's supposed to be his face if it wasn't covered by a bruise the size of a hand. Zayn's brow furrow and all his concentration is focused on Liam, who looks so small and unsure of himself as he stands in front of the bottles of generic brand aspirin.

"Liam," he calls softly, scared to startle him too much.

The other male grows tense at first until Zayn approaches and Liam's able to see his face. Only then does he relax to a certain extent though it's still very clear that he curls into himself by hunching his shoulders and stuffing his hands into his pocket.

Aside from the bruises that have become steadily clearer each step Zayn takes towards the boy, he takes in his full appearance, the ragged clothes, scuffed up shoes and no jacket.

What the hell?

"Hey, you alright, mate?"

And Liam only shrugs. "Yeah." But he doesn't say anything other than that because it's not like he hasn't run into other clients. Of course he has; the world is quite small, especially in these parts of town, but he hadn't expected Zayn, of all people, to show his face around here, especially with Liam looking the way he does right now.

He's very self-conscious in this moment, wanting to back away and forget about the aspirin or Tylenol that he needs in order to help relieve some of the pain in his body. Liam can also feel Zayn's eyes take him in, studying him closely and he's waiting for the inevitable questions to come, the plea's of _are you okay?_

But that doesn’t happen, not yet at least, not until Liam looks up at Zayn and sees how clean-cut he looks, a very stark contrast against what Liam has on, which only further proves the kind of class each other belongs to.

It’s been about a month since Zayn’s seen him or even thought about Liam, but as far as he can tell, he doesn’t remember him ever looking like he does right now, bruises wrapped around his body, littering his skin and up the side of his neck and onto his face. He can see the different shade ranges too, all sorts of blues, purples, greens and yellows and it makes his chest constrict. He’s only standing an arms length away, and Zayn, more than anything, wants to wrap himself around Liam, fix him, ask him what’s wrong and if there’s anything he can do to help.

And he's not sure where that maternal instinct has come from, because Zayn's not supposed to care about a hooker or that one night they'd spent together. Yes, he'd been kind and had give Liam as much gratification as he deserved, but that was it, no more and no less. Yet as he takes in Liam’s appearance and how haggard he looks, it's easy to see that Zayn attaches to people too easily and has a hard time letting them go.

"I'm fine," Liam says, and maybe he regrets that because it completely just contradicted the fact that he's not fine by the very noticeable signs on his body that suggest otherwise.

It also doesn’t help the fact that defending himself too quickly is always a sure way for someone to stick around and ask questions.

"Right, you look like you're in pain and you've got no coat on in this kind of weather."

"I'm okay, trust me." Liam grabs a random bottle off the shelf, which isn't the smartest thing because he hadn't bothered looking at the price or what kind it was, but right now, he just needs to leave before Zayn gets too personal. It definitely wouldn't be the first time a client had been concerned, but Liam's actually kind of fond of Zayn after that night together and the fact that he was a lot younger than most of the men that came to see him.

"Look, I get it. You don't want to talk, and that's fine, but for my peace of mind would you just humor me?"

Liam licks the top of his teeth. "I'm okay, Zayn, really. Things like this happen more often than you realize. I just need to pop a few pills, and I'll be good as new."

But it's as much of a lie as it is the truth because Zayn knows that aspirin isn't going to heal those bruises on Liam's body any faster, but he sighs because he's intruding on someone's life he knows nothing about and just because he'd had sex with him too didn't mean he had an entitlement to know what was going on.

It still didn't make it any less disconcerting though, but he shrugs it off, nods and proceeds to slip off his jacket. "Take it." He holds it out for Liam but Liam doesn’t go for it.

"I don't need it, Zayn."

But Zayn shoves it forward anyway because he's not taking any of Liam's stubbornness anymore. He may not want to come clean to a stranger, someone he's only met a total of two times, but there's no way that Zayn's letting this go.

"Take it, Liam. Don't argue before I put it on you myself."

So Liam does as he's told, takes the jacket and slips it on, and he's entirely grateful for it because while he'd lied and said he didn't need it, he'd been regretting going back out into the cold.

"You don't have anything now," Liam states, though it's fairly obvious.

"I'll be okay. It's not like I can't get another one."

Liam cracks a sardonic smile. "You know, you care too much."

"Yeah, well, I'd like to believe it's my way of showing people that there's still human decency."

Liam only tips his head in response, silence taking over the area around them until Liam clears his throat. "Uh, thank you, but I need to be going now." He's not sure if he should say anything along the lines of _it was nice seeing you again_ or _see ya later_ because this, most likely, was a one-off chance meeting and as far as Liam knew, he wasn't planning on ever seeing Zayn again.

Before Zayn can give him his own words of departure, Liam's gone, disappearing from his sight, leaving Zayn standing there in more concern than he's ever been in before for someone he doesn't even know.

x.x.x.x

"Can I talk to you?"

Louis looks taken aback at first simply because he’s not used to seeing Zayn without Harry in tow. He gives a little nod of the head regardless. "Let me finish their order, and I'll take a break."

Zayn smiles and backs away from the counter so Louis can take the order of the people behind them. It's a slow day in the bookshop, which Zayn is grateful for, as he moves over to an empty table, close to the counter so that Louis can walk over without being too far away from his job without getting in trouble.

It takes a good five minutes or so before Louis finishes up with the customers. He gives them a brief thanks, puts the money in the register before waving over another employee who he informs he’ll be back in a moment so they can take his place. They happily do so, and Louis approaches Zayn’s table with interest, apron still tied around his waist and a curious look gracing his features.

"So, what's up?"

Louis sits down in the opposite chair at the table and leans back in his seat, waiting on Zayn to speak.

"I was just... curious, is all, and seeing as how you know the business, I figured I'd ask you."

That catches Louis' attention and if he hadn't of been paying close attention before, he is now.

"You can ask me anything."

"Okay," Zayn says, pausing in what he's about to say because this is going to be so out of the blue for someone like him to ask and probably raise a lot of questions on Louis' part. "Is it... I mean-"

"Take your time, Zayn. I'm not gonna bite," Louis jokes, and it relieves some of the pressure Zayn feels to just spit out what he needs to say.

"I know being a prostitute and that whole business can be dangerous," Zayn starts, avoiding Louis' gaze because he's sure his face is now one of complete surprise for actually bringing this up and being open about it.

"Don't tell me you're looking to get into-"

"Oh, god no," Zayn says, shaking his head adamantly. "I just wanted to know how often things happen..."

"Go on."

"-how often things happen to the workers. I mean, you hear stories all the time about pimps and how unkind people are," Zayn trails off and hopes against hope that Louis knows where he's going with this.

He looks up at Louis, and although some of the surprise is still lingering on his face, it's clear that he's more distraught now and Zayn feels bad because just by the looks of it, Louis knows exactly what Zayn is talking about and it isn't something pleasant.

Louis gives a little shrug of the shoulders before looking around the room. There's really no one in here, but it gives him a peace of mind to know that no one will be listening in on their conversation.

"Depends on where you work, I guess. It's usually those that work on the street that have it worse than people who work in the escort business, you know the place I took you to. They're treated better because they need the workers to look nice, entice the customer and clients are more likely to be thrown out if they abuse them. It's more of a controlled environment."

It's probably the saddest he's ever seen Louis, especially considering the fact that he's always cheery and tries to brighten people's day. Zayn feels a brief amount of remorse grow for bringing up this subject, but he needs to know, needs to find out of Liam's really okay. Which doesn’t really make much sense, considering the fact that Zayn hadn’t thought twice about Liam until he’d seen him battered and worn, and yet here he is trying to figure out some semblance of Liam’s world, what might be going on with him and his life.

"Zayn, I'm pretty open about a lot of things, and normally I wouldn't wonder why you're asking me anything at all, but what's got you so interested?"

Zayn purses lips lips before bowing his head and fidgeting with his hands. "That uh, that _worker_ you managed to set up for me..."

"I thought that was over with?"

"It is, was. See, I met him again the other night, you know when Harry was sick. He forced me to go out and buy him some stuff for his cold, and like the whipped friend that I am, I did, and he was in the store, and I don't think I've ever seen someone that... that broken."

Louis sits up in his chair a little straighter, attention completely focused on Zayn. "Yeah?"

"He was covered in bruises, and had one on the side of his face too." Zayn reaches up a hand, tracing over the left side of his face to show Louis what he means. "I just-I can't get it out of my head is all."

Louis sighs, "I'm sorry."

"Is there something that can be done?"

Understanding washes over Louis, and he shakes his head, "Zayn, I get that you care because it's another human hurt, but if he's in this business, he's probably been through worse and has been taking care of himself for a long time now. There's not anything you can do, and as much as I've wanted to help those around me, whenever I'm doing my job and I see them battered, I can’t intervene."

Zayn narrows his eyes and he should trust Louis, he should because he's been doing this for a while and he knows all he does because of the situations he's been in and how he'd been able to come out on top of the prostitution ring, but this is new to Zayn, something he's never experienced and the thought that as someone as young as Liam is already selling his body and taking beatings from god knows what kind of people, it haunts him and it physically hurts him to think about it.

"So you mean to tell me that you just let it go? Just like that?"

Louis draws back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Most of the time, yes, and it sounds cruel, but it's every person for themself. No one cares about you because all you are is a sex toy, looking for the next cash cow that'll take you, and if it just so happens that you're the one beaten and out of work, it only means that someone else gets the chance to take the money they're there for in the first place."

Zayn's not happy with this, and it sounds like such a poor excuse of an answer, though it does make sense. It's logical, and it's the world they live in but god, any time Zayn closes his eyes, he see's Liam standing in the middle of the store, looking worse for wear and like someone just kicked the shit out of a puppy.

"Whoever you were with, and if you see them again, it's your choice to say hi and greet them as if you knew them, but Zayn," Louis warns, "please don't get involved. Let it go, because the more you think about it, the deeper involved you'll be, and although I've got it going pretty well for me, it's still as dangerous for me as it would be for anyone else."

Zayn ponders the requisition, but fires back with his own question. "Does Harry know?"

Louis stills, lips drawing up into a thin line.

"Louis," Zayn's tone drops.

"He knows what I do, but as far as he's concerned, I'm safe."

Zayn shakes his head and bites his lip because of course Harry wouldn't know. It would just be like Louis to keep him from the bigger picture.

"So you're warning me to stay away from this, yet you're allowing Harry the same pleasure?"

It's a touchy subject apparently because Louis grows tense, fist curling but he doesn't direct that anger onto Zayn.

"It's selfish, I'm aware, but I do it for the money, and I don't tell him the potential risks because there's always a liability for anything anyone does."

"So you're completely fine with the idea that you could come home, beaten just the same and expect Harry not to flip his shit?"

"First off, that'd be between me and Harry and secondly, I can't just give him up either."

Zayn runs a hand over his face; this is hypocritical on so many levels.

"Are you planning on quitting then?" Zayn asks.

And Louis nods "It's the main reason I'm telling you _not_ to do something stupid and to let all of this go because as much as I love Harry," he pauses, takes a moment to collect his thoughts because that's honestly the first time he's said that out loud, not even to Harry yet, "and trust me, I _love_ him... this business is hard to walk away from. Not only is it difficult to let go of, but it's not that easy to leave, and while I try and keep him oblivious to what I do, I know he's not stupid, and he knows how much of a struggle it is to make sure I leave on good terms with the right people so that I can escape that life for good."

Louis takes a minute to look at Zayn, eyes slightly wet and a clear sign of frustration in his tone. "I bet you, more than anything, that whoever you were with has ties with that establishment. He's probably got a lot of daddy issues and people that would be pissed off if he even tried to think about leaving."

Zayn gets it, gets where Louis is coming from and what he's saying, and it makes his gut twist to know that even Louis himself has the potential to be in danger, that he willingly puts himself into those situations for that to happen, and Harry's got no clue.

And although this was supposed to be some type of warning to him, Zayn doesn't really take it that way. It upsets him and makes him angry, and now that he's got more information than he ever could've bargained for, he's stuck between two crossroads because now he really can't get Liam out of his head and the potential fact that he could die at a very young age because of what he's doing with himself.

Zayn leaves Louis at the café with a sorry and a thank you because he's grateful he'd been open with him. Louis had only smiled, gave him a hug and went back to work and Zayn prays that Harry won't chew him out later for noticing a difference in Louis' mood, the one he'd caused because he'd been overly curious.

x.x.x.x

Zayn makes a less than adequate decision despite the fair warning that Louis had given him just a few days ago.

He goes back to the brothel.

It's not a smart idea, but Zayn is by no means a smart man sometimes. He just wants to check up on Liam, and although he's sure he doesn't actually live there, it's the only place of contact he'd be able to find Liam at. He can't go to Louis again, at least not after confronting him about the situation at hand, and even if he had, Louis probably wouldn't give him anything to go off of in order to find Liam again.

So he goes by himself down to the building and hopes beyond hope that Liam is either there working or just hanging around.

Though when he gets inside, he's quick to find that Liam's not there at all, which is slightly upsetting given the fact that Zayn had to take a cab down here instead of having Harry drive him.

His next option is to ask the people working here, some old, worn out lady who looks way too aged to be working here in the first place. But when he does, she looks him in the eye and he can tell she's gone a bit senile, though she does eventually answer him and tells him that she can't give out that information for safety reasons. And while it causes further frustration on Zayn's part, it's probably a good thing she'd told him that because it means that anyone else who asks too will most likely be given the same answer.

When he exits the place, he hails another cab, forced to spend money he probably shouldn't be spending, though all he can see is that it's worth it, definitely worth it if he gets to see Liam again and make sure he's okay. And it's a strange little attraction he has going on here, one that is beginning to worry him simply because this was only supposed to be a one night stand, not something to think about months after it had taken place.

It was only meant to be a blip on his radar, but it's turned into so much more than that for Zayn, especially now that he's coming back to a hoard of escorts just to find one.

Zayn stares out of the window as they pass through town. The streets are busy tonight, with people walking around and shopping, lights creating blurry movements every time the car speeds past the streetlamps or stoplights.

As the car pulls away from the majority of the population, entering into a more secluded area of town, Zayn spots a club with patrons lined up against the wall. There's also people standing on the corner of the street, looking a little too drunk, smoking their fair share of fags and it dawns on him that there could very well be the possibility that Liam wasn't at the brothel simply because he was out working the street for tricks, and Zayn doesn't want to think that, especially about Liam.

But as luck would have it, as soon as the cab passes the end of the road, filled with people trying to get into the club where the music is loud and Zayn can hear it through the doors of the vehicle, his eyes come in contact with a group of people on the side of the building, just a little ways down from the corner, and the first thing he sees is his jacket, the very one he'd given to Liam and he wants to groan in frustration.

"Pull over," he says, motioning for the cab driver to pull over on the side of the street, about a quarter block away from the club. "Stay here," he calls, not waiting for the driver to say anything to him before he's jogging over to the club, making it look as if he's just another patron wanting to get in, before he slips past people and down the side of the building, straight towards his jacket and the person wrapped up tightly in it, smoking a fag and leaning up against the wall without so much as an afterthought about what's going on or where he is.

"Come on," Zayn breathes, grabbing Liam's hand before he can register who it is.

Liam tries to pull away at first, but when Zayn looks back and tugs on his arm, Liam relents and follows him. There's a few catcalls, some whistling, but Zayn pays no mind to it, just leads Liam over to his cab, lets him climb in first before he's in as well and rattling off an address.

They don't speak, Zayn not paying any attention to Liam, who still has the cigarette in his hand, though he does roll down his window so he doesn't fill the car with smoke. The ride is completely silent the entire time, and Liam doesn’t look at Zayn either. He stares out of the window, feels the breeze against his skin and waits until they arrive to what he presumes is Zayn’s flat about ten minutes later.

When they’re both out of the car, Zayn pays and then he’s leading Liam up a set of stairs inside a building and to an apartment door.

"This where you live?" Liam asks, voice rather quiet.

Zayn only grunts a response before unlocking the door and letting Liam inside first.

As soon as they're in the house, the chill of the night releases itself from Zayn's bones and he makes his way into the kitchen to make some tea. By the time he's boiling the water, he notices Liam's not there with him until he peeks his head out of the kitchen to find that Liam's still standing awkwardly next to the front door, looking like he doesn't know what he needs to do.

"You can come in, you know."

Liam's startled by Zayn's voice but scurries over into the kitchen with Zayn.

"And you shouldn't be letting strangers into your house."

"Maybe, but I did."

"You're stupid," Liam remarks, shaking his head.

"Says the one out on the street at this time of night, looking for some cash."

Liam almost looks like he's snarling when he bites back, "You don't fucking know me, Zayn, and what I choose to do is mine alone. Though I guess I should add that if you expect me to stand here any longer, you'll be paying me."

"I only want to talk."

"You pulled me off the street during busy hours. I'm losing money just by standing here with you."

Zayn attends to the tea, pours two cups and hands one over to Liam who looks slightly startled at being handed a ceramic mug. "Thanks," he murmurs before taking a drink, and the way his face goes slack only shows signs that he'd needed a good cuppa.

"I went looking for you."

Liam raises a brow. "I take it that it wasn't for another shag?"

Zayn shakes his head. "No, I... I got worried."

Liam chokes on his drink, coughing at Zayn's words and how unbelievable they sound. "Are you sure this isn't some kind of fetish of yours? You know, stalking people and potentially murdering them?"

"If you really thought that about me, I doubt you would've willingly come into my house."

Liam makes a tutting sound with his tongue because yes, that's true, and there's a part of Liam that does trust Zayn though, which is odd and a bit difficult given the fact that Liam's learned not to trust anyone, even his clients because everyone eventually fucks him over - literally and figuratively.

"So then what's the real reason you're been thinking about me?" He's sly and a little coy, but Zayn doesn't take the bait.

"Your bruises look like they’re healing nicely."

And that statement completely makes Liam's face fall and set the mug down on the counter. He folds his arms over his chest and the tension in the air suddenly becomes uncomfortable. "Yeah well, they tend to do that."

Zayn sighs. "I don't know why I'm adamant about this, okay, Liam? I've never had sex with... with a prostitute before and then I saw you afterwards, covered in bruises and you're young and I just want to know what happened to have caused you to be okay with this?"

Liam's completely on guard now, and it's not like he's scared of Zayn, far from it. It's just, this is personal, way too much for Liam's sake and he's fallen into a trap he's heard so many times over from other workers, how one client attaches themselves to them, never wants them to leave and by the end of it all, it turns into a bloody mess.

But Liam doesn't think that's how this'll end, which he's grateful for, but it's unnerving how a stranger, who had sought out a hooker in the first place, wants to know what's going on with him.

"Funny thing is, is that I don't think you'd give two-shits about what was going on if you hadn't met me that night," Liam states. It's a harsh reality, and it's the truth, and he shrugs at Zayn because Liam's always been too straightforward and real with everything he's ever done.

"And yet, maybe it was meant to happen."

Liam snorts. "Don't tell me you're one of those that thinks things happen for a reason? It's bullshit."

Zayn shakes his head. "No, I don't think it is." He leans up against the counter, mug in hand and takes a sip.

"Right, well," Liam clears his throat, "We've had a lovely chat, but I think I should be going."

Liam makes a move to head out of the kitchen but Zayn's voice calls him out. "Don't; I don't want you back out there."

But Liam huffs. "Zayn, you're going to have to give me a better reason to stay here than just wanting to talk."

So Zayn sets down his mug, stands up straight and walks closer to Liam without getting too close. "I want to know you're safe, and if I have to, I'll pay you for the night, but please don't go back out there on the street."

His eyes look something akin to sadness, wide and hazel but warm and welcoming. It's the first time Liam's really able to study him despite the sex they'd had that one night all those weeks ago. Zayn looks soft and gentle and it reminds Liam of a past he once had but lost, and he wants to let the sob that's come up his throat escape.

"I-"

"Liam, I'm giving you a place to stay. You can shower, clean up and go right to bed if you want." His voice is nothing short of a whisper, too caring for Liam's taste, especially after everything he's been through and the people he's met and how they only use harsh, derogatory words towards him in order to feel okay about themselves whenever they're fucking him into the mattress.

But Zayn's showing him something different; no client he's had has ever done before, and Liam's not sure if he can take that.

"I'll even pay you for staying here, as stupid as that sounds, but if it'll get you to stay, you won't have to worry about losing anything tonight. Just please don't go back out on that street. And I know you know it's not safe, and if I could guess correctly, I'd say you don't even want to be out there either."

Which is so very true. The only reason Liam had been working the street and not at Niall's place was because of the bruises that Zayn had managed to see. Things had gotten a little rough one night in the bedroom with a client, and although Liam had been paid well for his troubles, it also meant he couldn't work until all of the bruises were healed. There were too many of them for makeup, and Niall had shaken his head and told him to get some rest, but he couldn't work until they were gone.

So Liam had to resort to the street, which he hadn't done in quite some time. He'd been safe working at the brothel, but he also understood that no one would've wanted to take him in for a night of pleasure if it meant he looked like a bruised fruit. The streets were a lot easier to hand out tricks simply because those men didn't care, as long as they got something in return for their money. And Liam needed the money, and it was why he'd reluctantly stepped out into the cold with Zayn's jacket wrapped snuggly around him and had stood outside, smoking a fag while waiting for someone to drive by and hopefully choose him so he’d be able to make an extra couple of bucks.

Only the person who had ended up taking him home that night, had been the one stranger that Liam felt a slight attraction towards and safe with because of what he'd done for Liam in the bedroom, made him feel okay about himself again and not as filthy as he's usually made to feel.

So this offer that Zayn is putting out is tempting on so many levels, but it's not something he's sure he should say yes to just yet. It would make sense to do so, it really would, especially since he needs the money more than anything, but it's Zayn and they're no longer strangers, more acquaintances and Liam knows that Zayn's not exactly rich either; he's not going to be able to offer an extended hand every time he finds Liam out on the street where it's unsafe to work and where he might get killed. One of these days, there's going to be nothing that Zayn can do for him and he should really start that lesson right now, shove Zayn to the side and leave so he can get back to his spot on the street and hope that not everyone has gone yet.

But he doesn't move. He stares at Zayn and wonders what would happen if he says yes. He knows what'll happen if the word no slipped out of his mouth, but the word yes, that scares Liam because although Zayn had told him he could shower and rest, it's still an uncertainty and Liam's always had a fear of the unknown.

"Alright, but just for the night, and no funny business."

Zayn uses his finger in order to cross his heart which gets the point across well enough to have Liam smiling at him.

"So, uh, how about that shower while I make us some dinner?" Zayn suggest, and Liam agrees, feeling lighter in spirits than he has been the past couple of days.

x.x.x.x

They don't talk much during dinner after Liam's had a shower and dressed in Zayn's clothing. Mostly it's silent eating and awkward stares, shy smiles and a yawn from Liam because he's tired.

Zayn offers Liam his bed for the night; it's only fair considering he's a guest, but Liam protests, claiming he'll sleep on the couch so as not to put Zayn out of his way, but Zayn doesn't stand for it and blatantly insists that Liam sleep on a bed.

Liam doesn't argue after that, and by the time he's in Zayn's room, in his bed and taking in the feeling of sleeping on an actual mattress instead of some shitty thing he's got in his apartment, he's glad Zayn had insisted on him sleeping in here. Though the comfort isn't the only thing that Liam's happy with. The room smells entirely of Zayn, a scent of musk, cigarette smoke and that of cleanliness, something Liam's come to cherish quite quickly because it only means a safety he hasn't felt in quite some time. There's no need for worry or fear to creep under his skin, that something might happen to him, that this could potentially be the last breath he takes, the last sight he sees because kindness was shown instead of being shoved up against the wall like some slut who's begging for it.

For a moment, and for the next ten minutes of Liam's life, he revels in what he's feeling, lets it consume his form and everything he is so he can imagine, that just for a moment, he's worth a lot more than some shitty night of meaningless, paid for sex. That he's loved enough to stay in a warm home, filled with objects that are meant to make someone feel like they've got what they need in order to fulfill their life.

Liam takes that comfort in, helps it soak through his skin and into his bones until he manages to close his eyes and fall asleep.

x.x.x.x

Zayn stays up for another four hours because he can't sleep. He's usually a night owl anyway but there's a churning in his gut because he knows Liam's in his room, sleeping soundly and it scares him. It frightens him because he'd done exactly what Louis had told him not to do, and not only will he be out of another couple of hundred bucks in order to prove to Liam that he’ll keep his word, but if anyone were to find out, more so Louis, Zayn knows he'll be in a world of trouble.

That could be slightly exaggerating a bit because what could Louis really do to him for bringing a hooker home? But still, it's the principle of the matter more than anything, and Zayn feels guilty for even bothering to find Liam again.

He'd taken in his appearance after he'd showered. He's definitely well fit, but Zayn had to shake those thoughts of his mind quickly enough because this whole ordeal wasn't based upon anything sexual. It was clear to see that Liam's bruises were almost non-existent, but some still lingered, especially those around his neck. They were longer than the ones on his face and arms, and Zayn had to swallow back the questions he'd been meaning to ask about them.

Zayn had also had to push back the urge to place his hand over those bruises on Liam's skin, on his neck specifically, matching up his own fingers with the bruises there to see if it would confirm what he already knew: either someone had a fascination with breathing, a fetish of sorts, or someone tried to choke Liam to death.

He'd forced his eyes away though, tried not to be too obvious with his staring because surely Liam would've called him out on it, and if he did notice Zayn's glances, he didn't say anything.

A bump against the front door knocks Zayn out of his thoughts, and he mutes the tv in order to hear if it's coming from his apartment door or someone else's from down the hall.

The noise comes again, along with a giggle and Zayn's lips go into a thin line because he knows exactly who it is and who's trying to get in.

He stands from the couch, making his way over to the front door and unlocking it, only to find Harry sitting on the ground, staring up at the door with wet eyes until he spots Zayn and a smile spreads across his face.

"Zayn!" he yells, clearly drunk off his arse.

"Come on, Harry." Zayn says, motion for Harry to come inside.

The other lad tries his best to stand up and although Zayn offers to help him do so, he waves him off and manages to get on his hands and knees before crawling past Zayn into their apartment. Zayn rolls his eyes but closes the door once Harry's inside who's managed to lift himself up off the ground, albeit a bit wobbly, until he's standing and trying to shrug his jacket off.

In the end, Zayn has to help him because he can't get his arm out of the sleeve and once he's done that, he pushes Harry towards his own bedroom.

"You're so nice."

Zayn wants to laugh because drunk Harry is always fun. He's a little playful and sometimes a little rowdy but tonight it seems he's beyond that point and will have a killer headache in the morning.

"Go to bed, Harry, and I'll see you in the morning."

Harry climbs into bed and snuggles in before giving Zayn a thumbs up as he passes out.

x.x.x.x

Harry wakes up the next morning in need of the bathroom and some coffee and by the time he makes his way into the kitchen, he feels like he could pass out all over again. He vows never to get that drunk again, though he's sure he's made that promise to himself a million times over, and although he's got class today too, there's an insane need to stay inside and not go out.

He ends up making the coffee how he likes it, brings the mug to his lips and slips into the living room to find Zayn passed out on the couch where he's taking up all the space. The tv's on but it's on mute, and Harry shrugs it off thinking Zayn fell asleep there until he hears rustling around in one of the rooms, floorboards creaking until a body appears to be moving down the hall and towards the front door.

Harry's not freaked out, only a little, but instead of doing the smart thing and grabbing his phone, he sets down his coffee, tiptoes to the hall and finds someone slipping on their shoes near the front door.

"Who the fuck are you?" he asks, though he's sure he doesn't look very menacing. He's just woken up, hair still a mess with his hands on his hips, and while Harry is a guy, he's shit at intimidating people and that goes the same for this moment now.

The person, a boy as Harry can see when he turns around with large eyes, freezes and goes slack in his stance, not sure what he should do in this moment.

"Uh," is the only noise that escapes from the stranger’s mouth, but Harry waits until he's gained enough consciousness to actually say something else. "I'm Liam."

"Okay, and what are you doing in my house?"

Liam looks put off at first by who this stranger is. He could be Zayn's boyfriend for all he knows, but that wouldn't make much sense given the fact that Zayn had admitted to Liam being his first encounter with another male as far as sex went.

"Zayn," Liam states, and that's all he says before Harry's shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

"Lovely, just when I thought the girls were enough, I've created a fucking monster and now he's bringing home guys."

Liam isn't sure what to do so he stands there awkwardly.

"I think I'm just going to go now," Liam says, pointing behind him and backing up until he he’s the door. It’s all awkward fumbles from there as Liam tries his best to open the door and get the hell out of here before this person gives him any protest. He knew he should’ve left hours ago, but he’d ended up sleeping in regardless.

He ends up going back to his apartment.

It's a shitty little thing, way too small and often times he feels like an animal cramped inside. It's in the lower region of the city where it's a bit too grimy for most people's standards, but not exactly a hole-in-the-wall type of place either, though he's sure plenty of people would argue that one.

He's lived here for quite some time now, gotten used to the neighbors that live on either side of him and across the hall, even knows the landlord a little too personally than some tenants should, but it mostly helps out with his payments on the rent.

And besides, Liam's not above or below doing what he's got to do to keep a roof over his head. He'd learned long ago what it was like on the street, how cold and distant and lonely it really was, but he'd done his best to save up for this little place he calls home and while most people would feel quite embarrassed, Liam doesn't have anyone over and it's a lot more than he could've ever bargained for because it’s his and no one else's.

The first thing Liam does is sit on his ratty old couch and ponder what the fuck he's doing with his life. He's never thought about it to this extent, not really because Liam really only saw this as his only option. But he wouldn't be young forever and the clientele would soon cease, and maybe that was years from now, but Liam has a habit of being worried about things way too early. It happened when he was fourteen and kicked out of the house, made to live on the street and figure out his own life and problems because his parents couldn't handle him anymore.

Well, they couldn't handle his sexuality and the fact that he'd stood his ground by saying he couldn't change who he was for anything.

And then, during that time, Liam had a life going for him. He'd had parents and friends and people who cared, but that had been taken because of one thing in his life that many didn't agree with, and as he got older, he saw it as more of a curse than a blessing, if anything, and came to a quick realization that people weren't as disgusted about him being gay as he previously thought. No, because they bought into it every night by way of hookers and the like, and none of it tended to make sense why these men frowned upon sexuality but hid it behind closed doors.

Liam's sure most of his clients have wives and possibly children too. It's a rare moment when he thinks about those kinds of things because they make him feel a lot more lowly than he'd like to imagine; sleeping with someone married wasn't exactly on his list of things to do in life, and it makes him feel even worse than that because although this is his job, Liam absolutely wants better for himself, to have a life, to get married and have kids…

And he can't imagine that happening to his future family, that kind of betrayal kept in secrets and lies, and he tends to wonder about his future and where he'll be and if all the things he wants for himself will come true.

For most people, those kinds of wishes do come true because they're palpable and easy to see, but for Liam, Liam's stuck with this unwanted curse and the uncertainty always lingers. Even death lingers in his forethoughts because by doing what he's doing, he could very well end up in an early grave, something he's sure his acquaintances wouldn't be able to stop.

Liam stares up at his ceiling. It’s cracked and the paint is peeling in places to reveal a green color which he’s praying isn’t mold but rather old paint someone had painted over. He thinks about falling asleep again, but he knows he’s too wound up to do so, especially after this morning and sneaking out of a house he didn’t even belong to, and the more he thinks about it, the more he believes that it was the most stupidest decision on his part simply because he could’ve stayed here for a night if he wanted to stay inside.

He’s really trying hard not to mentally complain. Zayn had done him a favor, letting him inside as if he were a street dog that needed a bit of cleaning, and maybe it was only a good deed on Zayn’s part so he’d feel better about being a human, and that wasn’t to say that Zayn was an awful person who needed to do good things in order to justify his behave so he could feel right with himself, but then again, maybe that was it.

All his actions spoke otherwise though, but Liam can’t imagine what Zayn really wants, why he’s always there; the other lad's scent still clings to his cleaned skin. He smells wonderful and he takes a big whiff of the clothes he’d….

The clothes he’d borrowed from Zayn and he still has on.

Well shit, that’s not good.

Liam growls and slams a fist into the couch, which probably wasn’t the smartest move because a wave of dust flies up off the back of it and he’s left coughing and waving his hands in front of his face.

He moves then, sliding off the couch and onto the floor. He feels anxious and scared and lonely and like he’s about to claw himself to pieces because it’s too much. Nothing makes sense and everything so far has been going wrong, and there’s only been two people in his life that have shown him kindness, but Liam is struggling with it because how or why would they do such a thing for him?

And then Liam feels the wetness on his cheeks, the frustration of everything spilling over and when he lifts the back of his hand to smear the tears away from his eyes, he’s left with blurry vision and a sense of need, of want, of something.

Liam grips the sleeve on his arm and yanks it up, looks at the bruises and deems them light enough to make use of himself tonight. He ignores his tears, the ones that are still lightly falling, for the bathroom, where he sheds himself of any remaining piece of Zayn, where he pulls on a nice outfit, one he reserves for _those_ times and he heads out of his apartment and to the brothel.

It may be the middle of the day, but Liam doesn’t care. He walks, head held high, teeth clenched until he arrives, pulls open the door and finds Niall so he can be assigned to someone today.

Niall’s startled at first, not understanding why Liam’s here so early, but he doesn’t hesitate to shove him in a room with an older man who’s looking for a blowjob to release his stress for the day. It’s something quick and simple and Liam knows he’s all too good at it, so by the time he’s got that small dick in his mouth, the man is cumming and Liam is paid before he’s off to the next client until he’s absolutely sore.

x.x.x.x

Zayn ends up sleeping in and misses his first class of the day and by then he doesn’t bother going to the rest of them. He spends the day working on his art and thinking about Liam and how he wasn’t there by the time Zayn woke up. Zayn also hadn’t paid him what he’d told Liam he would because he’d left before he’d gotten a chance to, and as much as he’d like to find Liam again, he puts that thought in the back of his mind because it’d be best to leave things as they are for now.

Harry gets home later in the day, a cup of coffee in hand and bags hanging off his arm. Zayn only raises an eyebrow at them all until Harry shrugs and grins and heads off to his room to dump them there.

“Thanks,” Harry says as he enters the living room, plopping himself right down onto the couch next to Zayn.

“Hmm.”

“For last night, you know, getting me into the house while drunk. I wasn’t difficult, was I?”

“Nah.” Zayn waves him off. “So…”

“Also, maybe I’m imagining things but there was some guy here this morning, and you know I’m cool with you bringing home people to… you know,” Harry smirks, “but that was awfully fast, don’tcha think?”

Zayn goes rigid, eyes widening slightly because shit, he hadn’t thought about the fact that although Liam had left the apartment, Harry was here too and regardless of whether he was drunk or not, he tended to be an early riser.

“Well no, don’t keep secrets. C’mon man, who was he?” Harry nudges Zayn, and he shakes his head.

“No one.”

He tries his best to stand from the couch, to move away from Harry so this conversation will end and Harry won’t force himself into Zayn’s secrets, but if he knows Harry, and he does know his best mate very much so, he knows that he won’t let this go so easily.

“You’re lying, and I don't like it when you lie to me because you’re horrible at it, and I want to know.”

Zayn bites his lip and shakes his head. “I’d rather you leave it alone.”

“Eh, I don’t think so.”

Zayn ends up sighing and looks directly at Harry. “He’s just some bloke I met and that’s it.”

But that answer doesn’t seem to satisfy the younger lad because he narrows his eyes. “Zayn, I thought I told you I was okay with th-”

Zayn’s shaking his head before Harry can finish, “No, no it’s not that. I’m fine with being bisexual or bi-curious or whatever. Trust me, that’s not the issue.”

He slumps his shoulders when he sees Harry furrow his brows. “So there _is_ a problem and you don’t want to tell me?”

Harry’s pouting now.

“When I’ve got things sorted out, you’ll be the first to know, alright?”

And they both leave it at that because Harry knows when to keep his mouth closed and Zayn knows when it’s best not to get too angry lest he snap.

x.x.x.x

Turns out that trying to sort his own shit out isn’t as easy as he’d thought it’d be. As much as he’s painting, things are only going decently for him in that department; schools just a pain in the ass having to study and keep up with his work, but it’s really nothing he can’t handle, and the only real problem here is the fact that he can’t get Liam off his mind.

It’s an issue, more so than it’s ever been before because after that day he’d had his talk with Louis and after he’d let Liam stay the night after some serious lack of consideration on his part, he worries.

He worries, and he doesn’t like it because he’s been more stressed out than normal and he should probably be upset about getting a few gray hairs which definitely wouldn’t look great with the black of his own.

And it’s stupid, honestly, to be thinking about a prostitute. Zayn blames it on having too much of a heart, but this has become an attachment, thinking and worrying over a stranger he’s only had contact with three times now. He’s had this argument with himself so many times over but the fact remains that Zayn likes Liam, obviously more than he should, but he just likes his company and his small amount of banter, his defensiveness and the fact that he’s got a story that Zayn may never know about.

So when he’s got the money and the time, when everything is right at school and Harry is busier with Louis, he decides to go back to the brothel a third time and hope that he’ll luck out and Liam will be there. He hasn’t seen nor spoken to him in over a month since he’d been in his house, under his own roof and when that had happened Zayn felt better, felt at peace with the decision no matter how stupid it might’ve been on his part.

“Can I help ya, darlin’?”

He’s talking to that old woman again, the one with long red nails who sits in the front of the building behind a desk, smacking on gum.

“Yes, well, I’d like-”

She grunts, “Aren’t ya a bit young to be here?”

And Zayn feels insulted, slightly, kinda, because yes, he’s still young and can get it up, thanks very much, but this is supposed to be a business that caters to everyone, right?

“Don’t worry though; we’ll take care of ya.” So she leaves it at that, assigns him a room before he’s shoved to the side by another man who’s looking for some action.

Zayn finds the room quickly enough, unlocks it and makes himself at home. It’s a different area than he’d been put in last time, and a lot of the decoration is the same but the bed is positioned differently. It sits on the other side of the room while a couch furnishes the middle of the room, helping to cover up the empty space the area would have otherwise.

He’s left for a total of ten minutes on his own, nerves a bit haywire before there’s a knock at the door, and when he goes to answer it, he’s met by an older woman, probably just a few years his senior with a crooked smile on her face. She sports leathery black material close to that of catwoman, and when Zayn asks what she wants, she pushes past him, into the room and chuckles.

“For you, honey. Why else would I be here?”

Her voice is full of accent, a small little drawl of her own and whether that’s to disguise her natural voice or not, Zayn’s not sure because it flows out of her lipstick painted mouth quite easily.

“I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong room,” Zayn says, hand still resting on the door handle from when he’d opened it just a few seconds ago.

She pauses, rattles off the room number and although it matches up with Zayn’s he shakes his head. “No, I’m here for someone else. Liam.”

And her eyes go wide and she gives a nod of her head before she scowls. “Such a pretty face wasted on a queer. How unfortunate.”

It makes Zayn’s blood boil. And sure, he wasn’t directly being talked down to, but it’s most definitely implied and while Zayn knows of the stares and the whispers that both Harry and Louis get when they’re holding hands in public or showing off their own affection, he realizes that not everyone is okay with being with the same sex.

Though he figured that at least here of all places, especially the hookers, would be a lot more understanding than anyone, and Zayn’s hoping she doesn’t know Liam personally.

Zayn gives a tight smile, showing something slightly friendly although his eyes read a completely different story. “I suggest you walk out of here now before I make a complaint. See, I may not understand everything that goes on around here in these establishments but what I do know is that it’d be unfortunate if the right person caught wind of you contracting an STD, and even if it was a rumor, they’d be sure to pull you, am I right?”

It’s downright bitchy, and Zayn loves it.

“Places like this can’t afford for their workers to carry around diseases and by the looks of it,” he glances over her body, “money is something you really need.”

She scoffs and pushes past Zayn but not before sneering and throwing him one last jab. “Yeah, well, we all know how hard it is for half-breeds to get any; it’s no wonder you’ve got to pay to get your cock sucked. Fucking filthy.”

Zayn watches as she storms away, leaving him to his own muse and Louis’ words ringing in his ears.

x.x.x.x

“Do you know how much of an idiot you are?”

Zayn looks up from his position on the couch, legs crossed while his hands pick at the cushions. His eyes snap up to meet Liam’s, finding that he’s stepped inside his room and closed the door.

“And I swear, seeing you again isn’t a coincidence; it’s a habit.”

“Are you complaining?”

Liam stays quiet and that’s as much of an answer as he needs.

“I’d like to believe that you’re here for another shag but I take it from your mood that won’t be happening.”

Liam moves across the carpet and over to the couch. He doesn’t bother asking to sit down, just takes a place on the other end, away from Zayn.

“I don’t think I told you how I ended up here in the first place, you know, that night.”

“If I’m honest, I don’t think either of us were in a coherent state for story time.”

Zayn laughs, eyes crinkling up when his mouth pulls back to reveal a set of pearly whites.

“Six months ago I had this startling realization that nothing felt right in my life. It was like, everything I was doing wouldn’t amount to anything; the birds I was seeing at the time didn’t do anything for me and Harry, my roommate,” Zayn pauses, thinking back to that little curly haired darling, “he was there for me. He’s got such undying devotion to those he cares about and I think he knew all along what was eventually going to happen, but he gave me space and time to figure myself out and when I did, he was happy, and for time’s sake, it landed me here, to see if I really had it for the same team or if I was just kidding myself.”

Zayn leans back, rests his head against the couch and closes his eyes. He’s tired and this isn’t what he wanted to be talking about.

“Is Harry your boyfriend?”

“What?” Zayn’s startled by the question at first, turning his gaze on Liam who looks serious, who’s paying attention to everything that Zayn is and what he’s doing.

“Well, you live with him…”

“As roommates only.” Zayn licks his lips before continuing. “His boyfriend, Louis, he’s a prostitute and that’s how I ended up here in that room with you.”

It goes silent then, Liam not knowing what to say to this and Zayn in a complicated, jumbled mess of what he wants to say and what he shouldn’t and everything in between.

He groans in frustration, standing from the couch quickly enough.

“I don’t know why I told you that, but I guess it doesn’t matter now. You want to know why I’m here?” Zayn starts off at a pace in front of the couch, not bothering to look at the other male in the room. “And I can’t answer that. You say I’m stupid, and maybe that’s true, and if Louis knew I was here, he’d say the same thing because he told me not to get involved in this.” Zayn takes a deep breath, feeling the atmosphere around him shift because of his inner panic, until he stops walking to face Liam, who only looks pensive and a little sad for Zayn. “But I can’t help it. It’s eating at me and the first time I saw you with those bruises…”

“Zayn,” Liam warns because he’s scared of the territory they’re about to go in. He doesn’t stand from his position though, instead Liam shifts so that his legs are up on the couch and he can shrink back into the cushions.

“And I just want to know why? Why you allow it? Why you do this?”

He feels hysterical now, so he takes another breath, rubs his hands over his face until he hears Liam speak up with such a force he has to stare directly at the younger lad.

“And why are you so interested? Why do you care so much? I can answer all of your questions but the ones I give you will never be enough to satisfy you. You don’t know me, Zayn. You think you do, but you don’t. We’re not friends; we shouldn’t even be acquaintances, and whatever the reason is for you coming back here or bumping into me, it needs to stop.”

Liam’s affirming what he’s saying with his posture, with his eyes and Zayn takes the hint, gets where he’s coming from and what Louis meant when he said that this wasn’t the right course of action for either of them.

“It’s an infatuation, and a lot of clients tend to have it and I think I allowed it to happen simply because you’re young and different and treated me nicely, but that was a mistake on my part.”

Liam stands then, his body vibrating with a rush of emotions because truth be told, when he’d heard Delilah come into his room, shouting obscenities at him, telling him how some boy wanted him for the night and how that wasn’t right, his heart had felt a little jolt, something close to excitement and fear all in one because not only would he get to see Zayn again, but he’d get to thank him for that night.

But how things change so quickly, because although he stepped into the room and saw Zayn, reality came crashing back down and he couldn’t allow this to happen any longer, and even if there wasn’t anything going on between the two. Where Zayn had been nice enough to him, Liam had a job and not enough time to make any friends.

But really, and mostly, the only reason he’s saying this stuff now is that Liam’s not close with anyone except Niall, and even then they have a strained relationship. This is his moment to push it all away for good before he lets this completely consume them both. It’s a mixture of pride and fear that holds down the reigns of a storm brewing inside of him, and he thinks back to the first night when he’d been given the chance to have sex with a man for money, how much of a thrill it’d been and how absolutely wrecked he’d been mentally afterwards.

This is a chance for him to change something, to grab a hold of and run, but that’s the only thing Liam’s ever really known, and it’s what his muse is telling him to do now.

_Run Liam, run away as fast as you can before you get in too deep and can’t find your way back._

“Liam, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Please don’t come back here,” he says, swallowing his protests and the words he really wants to say.

So Liam turns and exits the room and he doesn’t look back.

Zayn, on the other hand, doesn’t do anything either. He watches as Liam walks, feels as if something is shredding his heart into pieces but Zayn can’t place exactly what this emotion is. And more importantly, he lets Liam go, watches as he disappears from the room and down the hallway where he leaves behind a much larger imprint on his mind than Zayn’s willing to admit.

He stands there for a solid five minutes before he leaves the brothel, replaying Liam’s reaction and his words over and over again in his mind until he comes to the conclusion that maybe Liam was right.

No, he is right, and so was Louis because although Zayn hadn’t gotten too involved, he’d tried to do so and it backfired on him. So by the time he gets back to his apartment, he heads straight to his room and paints until the morning sun is in the sky. He only paints what he feels, colors of red and blue, pinks and purples and things matched together to create and develop something unique and different, until he’s left exhausted and weary, til he’s covered in paint splotches that leak and reveal the inner musings of a troubled, distraught mind.

And even by then, he still hasn’t gotten out the feeling of loss that buries itself deep within his veins.

x.x.x.x

With the help of Harry and Louis, Zayn lets it all go to the wind. The first few weeks are okay, though there’s still a need to check up on Liam.

He forces himself to distract himself from doing anything stupid.

The days pass, the season changes. It goes from there, weeks, months, a year.

And eventually Zayn completely forgets.

He’s moved on; he’s happy with both Louis and Harry because they’re his friends and they’re his backbone and have supported him in so much, and by the time another year rolls around, it feels amazing to finally be free of college and out in a world where he can be independent.

His artwork has taken off too, enough so that he’s able to display them in an art studio, where the opening is tonight, and he’s nervous and there are butterflies in his stomach.

“It’ll be fine,” Harry says, trying his best to sooth Zayn of any worry he has, because this is a big deal. A very, very big deal. This could either make or break him, and while that sounds silly and like something he’s said before, his career relies on the fact that this night needs to be okay.

“I can do this, right?” he breathes, smoothing down his suit and tie so he’s polished and ready for the big event. Louis had told him he needn’t be so dressed up for his own gallery, but he wanted to and figured it’d only reflect well on his paintings and himself.

They get there in due time, Zayn a ball of nerves as people enter the place, examining his work while both Harry and Louis tag along right beside him, whispering small little encouragements into his ear.

They go around the small building, looking at each individual painting, listening as Zayn explains every detail of his work to his friends, and although they know what everything is and how it came about, they listen happily, excited for Zayn to be able to share this moment with them just as he was there for them when Louis had gotten out of the business, away from that life and fully committed himself to Harry by putting a ring on his finger.

They’re set to marry in a few months time.

“Zayn, what’s that?” Harry asks, pointing at a lone wall with only one painting on it. It’d been a last minute addition, and as far as Zayn can remember, he hadn’t actually shown this one, kept it hidden away so he wouldn’t have to reveal anything about it.

“Oh,” he says, not sure how to explain it or why it’s here.

They walk over to it, though Louis has diverted from their little group by now, mingling with some of the other guest in the building, but Harry drags Zayn over to the painting and is mindful of the other people standing around and looking at it too.

“It’s beautiful, Zayn. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it.”

The colors clash, mesh together to create lingering shades and a pale white light, as if darkness is stretching out towards it. They’re only blobs on paper, splattered ink that is trying to conform its way into what it wants to be, reaching out for a larger purpose than just the black, like it’s searching for something to connect the pieces of what it’s been missing all along.

Zayn’s heart clenches.

“The detail is beautiful.”

“It’s interesting.”

He listens to the comments, fully aware that some of these people don’t even know that he’s the creator, and that’s okay with him because he’d rather hear their honest opinion.

Harry stands by his side, keeps glancing at Zayn as if he’ll do something drastic but he doesn’t. Instead, he nudges Harry, silently asks him to give him a moment, and all Harry does is give him a smile and a nod before he’s gone to find Louis amongst the crowd of people.

Zayn glances at the painting one last time before he makes a decision to move away from this area and the unexpected emotions he’s come down with. He’d buried them long ago and hadn’t thought twice about this painting as he’d handed his collection over to the people who were in charge of setting up his work.

“I’d like to buy this.”

Zayn furrows his brow and turns his attention to one of the saleswoman. He knows some of the paintings have already been bought because Louis had been the one to tell him, pointing at the little red stickers that indicated someone was interested enough to spend money on something Zayn thought wasn’t very good to begin with.

But as he watches the exchange, sees how the woman goes to put that round, red circle up against the wall, close to the paining for those around him to see that it’s been taken, Zayn feels something catch in his throat, a moment where he feels like his drowning in water because that can’t happen.

He won’t let that happen.

So Zayn moves forward, excuses himself after he’s bumped into several people trying to get to the woman and his painting.

“It’s not for sale,” he says just as the woman’s about to raise her hand to the wall. She looks startled at him at first until she recognizes him and only then does she lower her hand. As she does so, she also stares a little over to Zayn’s left, looking apologetic of sorts before Zayn realizes she’s addressing the would be customer.

“I’m sorry,” Zayn starts, turning his head just slightly so his voice can be heard. “It’s a lot more important than I thought it was, and I can’t find it in myself to part from it.”

It’s a shitty excuse, especially since the purpose of the night was to show off his work and sell enough paintings to last him several months before he’d have to work hard enough to display another showing.

“It’s quite alright. Sentimental value?”

The voice sounds familiar, but Zayn shrugs it off as he turns his upper body, hands now shoved in his pockets as he address the man who’s spoken.

And what he finds stuns him silent.

Zayn finds that this stranger, who isn’t a stranger at all, is slightly taller than he is. His hair is no longer in curls as it’d once been and is more set into that of a quiff. His attire screams expensive although it’s only jeans and a t-shirt, and he’s busy studying Zayn’s painting.

His heart is in his throat.

Before he can address the man, Louis is calling out to him, interrupting his thoughts but Zayn tries his best to ignore his friend, preferring to keep his gaze solely on the person beside him.

He swallows and has he does so, Liam turns his head and catches his eye and while his body is relaxed, his eyes wash over with recognition and something Zayn’s missed all too much in his life.

“Too bad you’re not selling it,” Liam nods to the piece. “Would’ve loved to have it.”

Zayn sputters, his mind searching for the right words to say. It’d be too awkward to say _it’s nice to see you again_ and it wasn’t as if they were close by any means, but that feeling, that little spark of something that Zayn had felt all those years ago, the one thing he let walk away because he’d convinced himself that that was the right thing to do, is standing beside him right now, looking nothing like the younger boy Zayn had used to know.

“Zayn.”

A hand clasps his shoulder and suddenly he finds that he’s surrounded by both Louis and Harry, the both of them looking a little wide-eyed and tipsy.

“Please don’t tell me you drank all the champagne.”

Harry giggles.

Zayn sighs.

Louis laughs.

There’s a clearing of the throat then, and Zayn’s attention is drawn back over to Liam, whose hands are crossed over his chest, feeling slightly out of place.

“It’s yours…” Zayn speaks, licking his lips. “The painting, it’s yours if you want it.”

Liam looks surprised but shakes his head. “There’s a reason you don’t want to sell it though.”

Zayn shies away from his friends, leaving them to their chatter while he speaks to Liam. “You’re right; it’s got sentimental value but it doesn’t mean anything if I’ve already got the rest of the piece here with me now.”

And it’s a confusing statement, and it doesn’t make sense but Zayn takes another step forward, inching himself closer to Liam as he notices that the other lad doesn’t make any move to step away from him.

“I painted it that night,” he says, averting his gaze to the floor, shuffling on his feet. “You told me to leave-”

“Oh,” Liam says, voice soft and he looks partially dejected, that memory flicking over and over again in his head. “Zayn, I didn’t expl-”

Zayn shakes his head, “No, you don’t have to. I get it; I really do.” He turns then, just enough to look over at Louis and Harry who’ve both got smiles on their faces. “You see them? That’s Harry and Louis.”

“The story…”

“Yeah, that one.” Zayn turns back to Liam, watching as the other male continues to stare at his best mates. “Louis figured it out whenever I began moping around the house, explained it and everything, why you did it, all that stuff, and it’s not like I didn’t know…”

Zayn would rather do this anywhere but here because there’s still people lingering about, and he knows that the both of them have been glanced over by invasive, nosy people who are trying to figure out their business, but it’s all so cryptic and it gives him a small bit of peace to know that they’re the only two with the entire story.

“But you cared.” Liam finishes his thoughts and it’s a bit uncanny to hear it from someone else.

He licks his lips, “Yeah, more than I should’ve, I realized.”

Liam smiles, lighting up a part of him that Zayn hasn’t seen before.

“You look good,” Zayn decides to say. The moment hasn’t gone sour yet, and he’d very much like to keep it alive.

“I guess that’s what happens when you figure out your life.”

Zayn’s interested, of course he is, but he doesn’t go for the burning questions he has. He’s always been a little too curious, and their history is only further proof of that.

But Liam seems to understand, and his smile widens that much more, and Zayn just wants to kiss him. The revelation isn’t as startling as he’d like to believe, and they’re both very different people now, to the point where Zayn would have to get to know this new Liam and leave the one he knew two years ago behind.

“I own the…,” Liam starts, pausing to glance ground him before leaning in just slightly, “brothel now, actually. Business is good.”

And Zayn’s impressed because although it’s not exactly the ideal kind of job, at least Liam’s better now, safer.

“Mind if I stop by sometime?” he questions, and by then he realizes just how that’s sounded; he laughs at himself nervously, the blush creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks. “I meant to ask if I could see you. I mean, if I could come by to see you at some point, if that’s okay.”

He flushes even further because this, whatever this is between the two of them, isn’t meant to be anything and all of this is mere coincidence.

Liam left him in the beginning for a reason.

Zayn’s suddenly backtracking, taking back the words and apologizing for being stupid and even speaking at all, but with one touch, he goes quiet, noticing that Liam’s placed his hand and his fingers around his wrist, so very casually, enough to feel the warmth of it bleed through his skin.

“I’d like that very much.” This time, it’s Liam’s turn to look flustered, embarrassment taking over him for how corny all of this is turning out to be, how he’d come here on a whim to see how well an old client of his had done for himself. There’d also been the slight budding hope in his chest that he’d get to see Zayn again, because while years had passed since they’d seen one another, Liam had realized soon after he’d spouted off a mouth full of lies that night that he’d walked away from something good, feeling the hollowness in his chest, the one he’d felt for so long, long before he’d ever met Zayn, widen just the slightest bit.

Zayn’s all smiles from there himself, never pulling away from Liam’s touch and when he becomes aware of his surroundings again, he realizes that what’s happened in the past and what’ll happen in the future is all defined in this one moment in front of a painting that had possibly been more foreshadowing about his fate than he’d ever realized when he’d stuck it in the back of his closet many moons ago.

“You can still keep the painting though,” Zayn mumbles, glancing back over to the piece before looking back up at Liam.

“Nah, I think I’ve got something better.”


End file.
